First Playtime

August 3, 1788
 
 
Cher D.
 
Last night was a treat, you allowed me to wear clothing. A cherry blossom colored robe from Japan with a simple waist tie. It fit like a second skin. Elegant yet sexy. I felt more beautiful than a geisha.
 
Always the revealer of mysteries, you motioned for me to sit on the bed. I gleefully hopped up. When you presented me with a black box tied with a matching pink silk ribbon, I opened it. My eyes widened, as did my smile.
 
“Place them on the bed, one by one,” you directed.
 
The first was a long, slender phallus carved from violet jade. At least six inches in length. Studded with bumps along its shaft.
 
Next came a polished wooden dildo. Smooth and shiny in the soft candlelight. A little shorter than the first, it was tapered, getting thicker as it went its end.
 
When I took out the next one, I was captivated by it. The silk cord was threaded with six glass beads of increasing size. The first the size of a cherry, the last the size of a plum. Each bulb was a different hue, one for each color of the rainbow.
 
The last item was strange. I was a thick tapered toy with a flange. It was heavy, like metal. Made my mind wander…
 
You nonchalantly tossed me a bottle of clear, oily liquid. I open it. Smelt it. It was a slick mineral oil. One used in massage and for medicinal purposes.
 
“Entertain me,” you pronounced. With that you sat back in your leather chair. Sipped your snifter of cognac.
 
For a moment I sat puzzled. As a woman despaired in her marriage, I knew about self-pleasure. Having used my fingers to coax and tease, then inserting them into my trimmed perfume box. But to use toys… while some one watched. While you… watched. I felt a blend of excitement and shame that intoxicated.
 
After propping up the overstuffed pillows, I undid the tie of my robe. Let it fall open. Though I had always been naked before you in this room, I felt totally exposed. I reached for the jade idol, anointed it with ample oil. Then leaned back.
 
I pressed the cool stone gode against my mound. Watched as the oil further glistened my oozing lips. With my other hand I place my thumb on the tip of my clit. With slow, circular motions I timed my rubbing with a deliberate insertion of the jade. Pulling it in, then out, in then out, in then out. As my short quick breaths kept time.
 
You smiled. Not a gawking smile, not a victorious grin. No, it was a genuine smile. The smile an artist makes when the last dab of paint inspires. Or the relaxing of the lips by a poet when he pens the perfect line in an unfinished sonnet.  
 
I continued with my solo performance, now focusing only on me. Trying not to think about you watching, what you were thinking. The oil was slippery as I eased the toy inside me. I felt the nubs rub going in and going out. I felt lightheaded as blood engorged my plump labia and blushed my cheeks. Before long I forgot about you, the world, my doubts about everything. All I wanted was push myself… over the cliff.
 
To help me crash on the rocks, moved my left hand up to my left nipple. Began rolling it between my thumb and finger, just as you had. Increasing the pressure. Feeling it harden, swell as tingles shot down below.  
 
My climaxes came in waves. They were small at first, then got larger and larger. Radiating throughout my body, tingling everywhere. Until I forgot myself, swore like a Montmartre harlot. Shooting up, I sat upright in the bed. Clutched the bedsheets until that last climax faded.
 
When I looked over at you, I was surprised to see that you were standing next to the bed, your erection released from your trousers, in your hand. You were stroking it slowly, deliberately. Clearly on the brink of spilling yourself all over me and the bed.
 
“Stay still,” you whispered. As if to ensure that no one else would hear. A few strokes more and you lost control, the first time I had ever seen this. Your semen slung itself like a pearled string. Landing all over my face and chin. I started to wipe it away. “Hands at your side,” you barked. “You will sit here until my ink has dried.”
 
You then gathered up the toys and the bottle of oil. “These we will save… for another day.” Then you left the room. Leaving me with the beautiful shame of  wearing your sex.
 
TVS
 
s.