"He leans over my body his hard cock forcing the plug deeper into my assand wipes the pussy juice from his finger under my nose. My lungs fillwith the... scent of my own excitement and I admit defeat. Smiling he picksup the paddle and flips to the studded side. Twelves strokes bring me toorgasm and I collapse exhausted across the bench. He allows me a fewseconds respite before he pulls me to the standing position and moves meto the centre of the room. From the rack he selects the cat. I love. The strangled elation of the moment grabbed hold of him and didn’t let go until both of them fell over, burying themselves in the bedding so that it muffled their cries. He reminded himself to breathe, as normal life and normal thinking swam back into focus. We really should not have done that, he thought. And then: But I’d do it again. Their fingers laced together. The pulse in her wrist was still going. He felt his heart break, but he stamped it down. None of that, he told himself. This is. God damn it, it was just getting good. I grumbled and began driving. I’d been sat at the red light, letting my mind wander as the last rays of daylight faded over the horizon. Lost in fantasy, again. Frankly, I’d spent most of my life in fantasy. It was more fun. It was more exciting. And… it let you live out your What Ifs. Sometimes, though, that wasn’t a good thing. Sometimes it left you hurting even more.And speaking of fantasy, I thought, I was about to drive past a place that made it. There she is, sleeping on her back with her face facing away from me. Her loose end of the saree has crumpled up covering only one blouse covered breast. Her other breast is fighting very hard to come out of the blouse. Her blouse hooks are tight and barely holding on the blouse. Her bare stomach is beautiful and moving up and down slowly to her breathing rhythm. Her legs were held together and her saree on her is twisted everywhere but fully covered. She is sleeping on a double bed. I have.