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By the third of those deep thrusts I'm on the verge of coming again, and he just stops.

"You shithead," I shout, "stop torturing me like that. I really want to come!"

He just sort of snickers and starts again, slowly, with his old 1-inch dick stroke, making sure to smash into my clit each time he pushes back inside me. By this time I'm starting to hold myself back a little, knowing that he's going to stop short and leave me hanging again, so I'm not nearly as fast to peak as I was before. He must sense this, because suddenly his weight shifts forward and his mouth is in the game, giving me one of those long hard kisses that I love, with his tongue deep in my mouth, while his cock slams all the way into me hard. Once, twice and that does it. I'm coming with a force that is stronger than anything that I've ever felt when we've fucked before. I'd be screaming my head off except he's still got his tongue in my mouth and his lips locked on mine. We stay that way, as he continues to pump in and out of me, long deep slow strokes now, as he brings me down gently from one of my life's really great orgasms.

After a few minutes he rolls off of me and I hear his feet on the floor again.

"Wow," I say, "that kind of hit the spot. Did you get there that time?"

"God, I tried not to, but I couldn't hold back."

"Oh, poor baby. If you give me a chance I'll see if I can't suck another one out of you later. Would you like that?"

Before he answer's there's a knock at the front door. He says, "Why, I think your surprise has arrived," and I hear his bare feet moving toward the front of the house.

I can hear him walking toward the front of the apartment, then the door opening and closing. I hear my lover saying something, muffled, but I hear no response, just the sound of feet coming my way, one set barefoot, the other in shoes. I'm no longer sure that I like this, being tied up, not knowing what's going on, and not being able to stop it if I want to. So, I rub my head back and forth as much as I can, trying to get my blindfold off. But now I understand why he put the ski mask on top of the blindfold, because all I can feel happening is that my mouth gets a little covered up. I still can't see what's going on.

The footsteps come into the bedroom and I start to plead. "Honey, I'm not comfortable with this, please at least let me see what's going on."

"I think you should trust me on this one," he says, straightening my ski mask. "You know I've never hurt you before, and I'm not going to do that this time either. You've told me some of your fantasies, and now it's time to try one of them. So, why don't you just lie back and enjoy, because it's going to happen now anyway."

As he's talking, I can hear shoes hitting the floor after being taken off, then a zipper, and the rustling of clothes being removed.. No, he never has hurt me before. And I think he likes me enough, or at least likes fucking me enough, that he's not going to screw up a good thing by doing that now. And he's right. As long as he sticks with my fantasies, I should be okay, and I should enjoy this, if I'll just let myself do that

So I decide to go with the flow. I start listening again, and smelling, trying to figure out who, or at least what sort of person, this surprise is. And as I do so I feel my nipples getting hard again, and a tingling warmth starts to build in my sloppy cunt. My gentle sniffing tells me nothing; all that I can smell comes from the furious fucking that we've just had. I can't smell any perfume or aftershave smells; no body odor. Black, white, man, woman; I don't know. No smoke smells -- that's good; because I hate that. At least it seems that my lover has picked out someone who meets my standards on that.

Then, sounds of bare feet on the floor again.

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