Don't forget about your auntie: a domme and her sub, part 2

Part 1 here

John was overcome with emotion as he thought of Laura, his aunt, and the perfume they wore.

His balls were on fire. He tried to forget about his auntie.

It was not something he had ever smelled before. Perhaps it was the blindfold. One sense is gone, and another one is heightened.

Laura just chuckled at his sight. The sadist loved to see her subs in pain.

She bought rope to tie his legs. They were tied to the sofa legs so he couldn't protect his balls or cock.

She took the panties out of his mouth and stood behind him. She placed the panties on his throat, and she pulled them back, choking him.

She pressed her lips against his ear and whispered, "I don’t know why you're crying." That's nothing, you know. I promise to do the same to you."

His throat erupted in a guttural whimper. He laughed as she giggled in her ear. His cock moved again.

Laura hadn't had the chance to allow the sadist to play for a few weeks. She was going to drag this out. John's cock was still rock-hard.

She wanted to give him and his ball a break so she threw the crop away. It would be a great follow-up to her flogger.

She wanted to first touch his cock.

"You are not allowed to cumber until I tell you so. She reminded us of this.

He replied, "Yes Laura." His heart beat fast.

The excitement of the unknown. He kept hearing the same mantra over and over again. "Do not cum, do not cum, do not cum."

When he thinks about Auntie Sally, he can't cum.

Laura sat on the floor. John was seated with her legs between his. Slowly, her hand moved up and down along John's thighs, getting closer to his crotch.

John was purring almost loudly, but not moaning.

She reached up to take the blindfold off. His cock was reached for by her hand. He let out a long groan when she grabbed his cock.

He was compelled to continue repeating his mantra of not to cum. He thought of his auntie once more.

That was a good thing. He couldn't cumulate while thinking about Auntie Sally.

He also didn't want Auntie Sally to be thinking about right now. He put all thoughts aside.

She was slowly stroking his head with her hand, pushing the hair out until it came out. He looked at her and she then licked his cock with her hand.

"Shit, do not cum do not cum do not cum."

She felt like he was going to blow cum all over her like an open fire hydrant. He stopped touching her.

It was time for a change. She undid the ropes around his ankles, and removed the cuffs from his hands. She took him by the hand and lifted him from the couch.

He was wondering what would happen next. His chest was pounding.

She led him to the window. Midtown's skyscrapers lit up the sky. Manhattan was never dark.

Laura advised, "Put your hands over your head and lean against a window."

They were fortunate to be on the 47 th floors of a large skyscraper so nobody was going to notice John naked, pressed against his window.

He could hear her footsteps leaving behind him. It looked as if she was looking through her bag once more in the window reflection.

This is not a mophead

Her footsteps approached once more, and she became even clearer through the window. It appeared that she was clutching a cleaning mop.

He felt dumb. It was a flogger. It was, of course, a flogger. He had heard her tell him that it was her greatest fetish.

Are you ready? She warned that this might be painful.

"Hit me, Laura."

The first strike was very soft. His back was tickled by the suede tresses. He was not tickled when she struck him again. In one strike, tickling turned into stinging.

She tried harder with each strike. Every strike was accompanied by a louder sound from her tresses and skin.

Each strike brought more reddening to his bare back. John's screaming intensified as the strikes progressed.

It was as if she were painting. His skin was the canvas, and she flogged the brush.

She considered her masterpiece. She was Picasso, and her abstract painting was almost complete.

John was panting and recoiling whenever the tresses touched him back. His breathing was fogging the window.

If he wants her to stop, he can only use his safety word.

She didn't want to break him the first game they played together, so she laid the flogger on the ground.

He winced when she placed her hand on his shoulder. He was a tender, loving man. His skin was very hot. Her skin was hotter than the radiators in her studio during winter.

Cold Yoghourt, but don't forget about the auntie

He was pleasantly surprised at how tender she was to him. It was a surprise to him how much he enjoyed it.

His entire back was pounding. It felt like a beating heart was present in every spot where the flogger struck.

Her kisses felt cold yoghurt being poured onto the skin of his burning face. He turned around. After looking at him for a while, she kissed his mouth .

She ran her fingers through his hair. Their kisses became more rapid. He wanted to feel every part of her skin and traced it with his hands. He wanted to feel every inch of her body.

He reached for her hips, kissed her and then lifted her up. He held her against his chest and leaning against the window, he kissed her.

She wrapped her legs around him and her arms around his neck.

He shoved his cock into her pussy.

After being outside all day, it was like lying in a warm sleeping bag. He was clenching on her pussy as she squeezed his genitals.

His cock and his balls were soaked by her juices. He felt the liquid dripping down his legs.

He fist her, pushing her into the window with every thrust. He reiterated his promise not to cum.

"Cum for John", she puffed in his ear and gave him permission to speak.

Thanks fuck he thought. He felt his cock throb and he fired a few quick thrusts to get his cum deep into her pussy.