(To read Seek And Go Hyde Act I)
There is a reason she calls it The Magic Oil™. It is.
It’s actually a “super concentrated body glide” called pjur. We use the original. I had no fucking idea what that meant until I checked out their website. Who knew it comes (heh) in light, gel, aqua, male, female and even repair (repair?) versions of this magical elixir?
What I do know is that when it comes out, invariably I am going to come like Old Faithful – a loud, hot geyser of semen spewing high and repeatedly into the night like clockwork, hence its mystical nickname.
And the way Leigh was using her hand like a wet silk glove on my almost blindingly thick erection was not helping my efforts to retain control. Honesty ladies, sometimes we literally can’t see straight when it’s like that and you are liking that. When she mixed in the barely whispered excuse of touching with the pace of a tortoise on vacation I about died.
To help you all better visualize the beautiful agony that was Leigh’s expertly oiled hand, allow me to describe what it was like:
I writhed like a frustrated snake, which is not meant as a double entendre analogy but so be it. My squirming was involuntary, as were the noises escaping from my throat between gasps and sobs of torturous pleasure via exquisitely expert teasing. Moans low and lush, accentuated by the aforementioned attempts to breathe, with some shrill intakes of night air for good measure. It was my turn to be the one who was whimpering “mmmhhmmMMM” between huffs and sighs, my turn to grip the underside of the headboard for dear life.
The headboard is nailed right into the bedroom wall’s studs. On more than one occasion I’ve torn the bottom loose when she does this to completion.
Every now and then an “Oh fuck” or “Shit!” would escape. My toes wrinkled and curled, my legs kicked out against the scruff of the linen sheets against some unforeseen adversary, like Father Time and how long he would allow me to stay like this. Oh yeah, he was not the one milking the granite that my cock had transformed into with the touch of a butterfly’s wing dipped in honey.
Leigh knows damn well how much I enjoy being tortured this way, and I know damn well she delights in doing it. It was so fucking painfully sweet I honestly felt the lifeblood draining out of the corners of my body and pooling around my hips. I got light headed at the ferocity of not just how fucking thick and long her manual efforts made me but legitimately concerned that the skin may actual rupture before my seminal glands did.
Then she did the same thing I did just minutes earlier and with no warning. Soft stroke, caress the by now bulbously grotesque head, down the shaft, repeat while holding the base firm with her left hand, over and over and…
…then she bent it down towards my feet.
My eyes rolled back into their sockets as my body lurched taut with the most intense sensation of being in the process of blacking out from pleasure.
“Fuccccckkkkk!!” I moaned loudly through the fog of lust enveloping me.
That’s when the hissing started, when the first growl escaped. In hind sight that is when she probably woke up Hyde.
Her chuckling and soft “Oh my…” either really helped or really didn’t poking him while he slumbered, depending on your vantage point. It was if my cock grew an inch longer and thicker with a single deft move of her wrists. A quick release of the vise grip her left hand had on its base to allow a surge of new blood to enter the by now almost comical displays of veins mapping the underside of my cock’s surface, then squeeze! as she stroked the full of its new length with its oily twin.
Trapped. Both the blood and me. And nowhere to go.
It wasn’t helping (there I go again on the vantage point) that my right hand was still exploring her soft skin, curves and available openings, particularly one small, tight one. She knew that made the matter at hand (heh) even worse, or better.
See? Even recalling it makes me delirious with confusion! Imagine what it was like to be there! Regardless of Whomever or Whatever you chose to believe in as the reason we are all here, I am convinced that They gave men two unique heads but only enough blood to operate one at a time. And I was Exhibit OMFG right then.
My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, my eyes the same as a blind man’s. Teeth clenched, spit hissed, snarling sounds, the random “Fuck!”, muscles tightened and started to ache, almost cramping from the involuntary contractions being forced upon them.
It was now or never.
I noticed how she whined and made wincing sounds when my free hand groped her sore ass cheeks. She even pouted out loud that she was being a good girl. And she was.
But I wanted more than the orgasmic hemorrhage I knew her hand would likely produce in a matter of time. I wanted her orgasms, her sounds of distress, to tease her as she had me. To make her the one writhing in sweet pain with the frantic look on her face.
And, looking back now, I think Hyde had a say in what happened next.
I lurched up off the mattress and, in one motion, grabbed Leigh’s left arm and threw her in my grave. Another second or two of jockeying for position and I had her right where I wanted her – on her back beneath my kneeling form, her legs wishboned straight out and as wide as they would stretch from the death grip my hands had on her ankles…
…and a very slick, oily, angry as fuck monster of an erection pointed at her helplessly wet cunt like a kinky divining rod.
Our eyes met. Mine were narrow, tight, hot. Hers were wide with arousal, confusion…and fear. And with good reason.
The hunted was about to go hunting.