"Fuck!" exclaimed Shelly, her voice panicky. Fay's hand dived under the pillow and pulled out another handcuff. The sound of ratcheting punctured the ...ir again and Fay fastened her other wrist to the bedstead. "What the?" squealed Shelly, "Fuck! Let me go!" Fay was laughing loudly and its tone had changed from one of playfulness to one of intent. Leaning in to kiss her, Shelly wriggled, flailing her legs as Fay pressed her mouth hard against hers. With both legs, Shelly resorted to kicking. You see, he doesn’t ‘make love to me’, we make love together, to each other. Most of the time he’s more concerned about me than himself, I always have more orgasms than him, tons more. On the way back to his house I chatted away to him as usual. He’s not very talkative in the car, concentrates on driving I think, but I like to talk to him. He nods and smiles at what I say, none of which is very important. He says that it soothes him, he likes the sound of my voice. I suppose that he is on his. More

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