How often had Sable cum on this pillow? A hundred times? Five hundred? A thousand?
It made no sense that she couldn’t cum now. This was her humping pillow, for crying out loud! If she just went a little faster … a little harder … a little more.
Sable could feel her orgasm so closed, but locked away, like a firecracker of bliss locked behind glass. Or behind the icy blue eyes of the Psychosomatique, the evil telepath that had escaped Sable’s pursuit five days ago.
The only clue had been a note reading The words to unlock your desire are “Please dominate me, Psychosomatique.”
Of course, Sable would refuse to mutter such demeaning words. All she wanted was to wipe them out of her head with a good toe-curling orgasm. Or even a miserable barely-there climax would do right now. But for five days, she hadn’t been able to cum, no matter what she did.
Her body was on fire, but her release was out of reach. Sable had tried everything. Everything!
“Please … um … please dominate me … Psychosomatique. OHMYGOD!”
Bliss exploded throughout the young heroine’s body, and mind, and soul. Those four words were all that echoed through her consciousness as her flesh quivered with aftershocks. As her lips drooled in ecstasy on the pillow, she whispered again and again “Please dominate me, Psychosomatique.”
Entering the room as a psychic presence, Psychosomatique was only too happy to oblige.