Zipper on a thigh
thigh zipper
It was her first zipper.
She took it well.
I made her count each bite as I ran the clips up one thigh and down the other. Her breath would catch with each new nibble as the count rose about 15.
Two strings. Two thighs. They reminded me of strings of firecrackers with pink fuses. Perhaps the snap, the sharp noises as I tore them up and off her sensitive flesh? Maybe the anticipated, ever so shocked delayed reaction a sub has when the zipper is pulled? Or it could just be that’s how they looked as I stood above the bed giving instruction, explaining the countdown, preparing her for the
PULL! – !SNAP!SNAP!SNAP!SNAP!
Eyes-wide-gasp, fingers splayed wide and mouth collapsed into alphabetic shock.
“Son-of-a-BITCH!” She moans, pulling fetal. Mouth and eyes close. Everything about her becomes a tiny ball.
I caress her, comfort her with soft words and wicked laughs.
I am very pleased.
“What happened to the countdown Sir?” She manages after a few seconds.
I shrug. Not bothering to answer.
“Want another?”
“Oh yes, please Sir.”
