“Aaargh”, expiring the air from my lungs I have announced my bodily pleasure.

His touch stops at the sound, a sudden response to this vocal acknowledgement of his work. His hand returns to my thigh and continues the sweeping circular movement that had just revealed my satisfaction. Each periodic swipe returning closer to my labium with a flick that sends a response like lightning inwards and into my core. His fingertips massaging the warm fold that envelopes my pubis, his caresses firm on my fleshy skin. This is more than a massage; this is an erotic play on my senses.

I feel not just his fingers, I feel the pressure of his palms aided by warm friction, pulling and pushing, his contact spreading my skin. A feeling that sinks deep into my muscle down towards my very bones. This rhythmic pressure is now surrounding not just my labia and perineum, but now my buttocks too. As the force increases with each circular loop of both palms in tandem, fingers now spread open, I feel my cheeks part in waves of undulating pleasure. His hands are cupping each cheek firmly as the circular motion continues, pushing deeper into my sinews. With his fingertips now hooking into my skin, a pinch-like claw into my flesh, that nips and adds to this building-up of layered sensations that is driving me to distraction.

I am feeling all this at once, the massage, the swipes, the stinging pain of the nails, and the tugging at my buttocks all working together, an orchestrated coordination of techniques. I now remember why I come back for more, why I trust and submit to Master. How can he know what my body, my primal-self wants better than I? Yet what I feel now is evidence that he knows how to control my pleasure senses and can bring me up or down at will.

“Aaargh”, for a second time, now more vocal, an exclamation of the pleasure that erupts from between my legs. A master stroke from the Master himself. It must be his thumbs, surely it is his thumbs. I felt two additional touches this time simultaneously, a deep insertion into my vulva and a lighter but forceful insertion into my anus. All the while the layered coordination of swipes, scratches and massaging continues, an ever-increasing onslaught to my sexuality. I am pushed over the edge.

I have no control, my core takes over, my pelvis tenses and releases, tenses and releases. Wave after wave pulsates outwards, a never-ending series of ripples, cascading through me to my very extremities. I feel my fingers tingle, my body is floating, weightless. This release of endorphins is magical. This is a rush I know will end, but for this moment I am embracing all my senses, letting it wash over me. By savouring this moment, mentally describing the feeling nerve-by-nerve and committing to memory, will I be able to recall and relive this again? Probably not.

I am coming down. I feel my convulsions subsiding, I feel control of my limbs again. I feel his touch again on my thighs. This time they are downwards, almost reassuring strokes, that are calming, soothing and yet commanding.

My body responds as it has always done, to his commands. I feel relaxed, in an almost trance like state. Hypnotised to respond to his movement, with each firm downward stroke of his palms fondly caressing my thighs I hear myself exhale. My breathing is synchronised to his strokes. My lips flushed, I smile.

“Nice to have you back, for a moment I lost you there.” He smiles back. He kisses me.