She couldn't say anything.She couldn't hear him, though, and as her flush faded, as her skin cooled and she began to come back to herself, she wondere... what his next delicious torture would be.She waited. Heart rate slowing. Breath becoming even. And still, nothing.Without any warning but the brush of air preceding the blow, it came. From nowhere - the sharp sting of his favorite flogger. Hard rubber falls with sharp tips. Stinging, stinging across her thighs - the right side this time. How had. “Thank you,” she said.We kinda stared at each other for the longest time. It was after 3:00 p.m. She looked up at the clock and went back to staring at me.“Could I interest you in a beer or maybe something stronger?” she said.“Whiskey,” I said. It was early but not that early. She left me for a short two minutes and returned with a bottle of Gentleman Jack and a couple of old fashioned glasses.“I see it’s one thing you bothered to remember,” I said.“Of course,” she said. Gentleman Jack had been. His soul called to me, soothing all that had been by nothing more than sheer existance. ‘Can’t seem to stop touching you,’ he murmured, skimming his fingers over my skin. Silk and lace, satin and steel. And I thank the powers that be for this crisis, because his touch, the compulsion within him that drives his hands to my body again and again is my salvation. It seems there was no breath, no heart beat before his heat, nor would there be after. I meet his gaze again and again, his brooding. The house had been vacant for some time, but a middle-aged married couple had moved in a few weeks ago. Adam had heard from his parents that were supposed to have a daughter, but he had yet to meet them and find out. He'd gone over on a few occasions to introduce himself, but had found no one home.The only activity came at night, when the couple would emerge and swim in their darkened backyard pool, splashing and giggling like a pair of teenagers. Adam suspected that they swam in the nude, and.
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