Read Driftwood Deeds for Free Online Page B

finger was stirring against my painfully swollen clit.
    “Yes, Sir.” I inhaled deeply through my nose, all of that cunt filtered air. 
    “Did you make them so terribly wet?”
    I nodded first, torn between shame and pride as he forced my nose to rub against the moist panel. 
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Explain yourself.” As he said so, another finger slipped between my labia and he trapped my sopping clit between the two, squeezing and rubbing until I had curled my fists against the carpet, wriggling like a fish on his lap. And suddenly his fingers stilled. “Answer me, Iris.”
    “I made them wet because... because I’m so... I need…”
    My voice petered out into silence and hung heavy for several seconds until I tried again. “It got wet because I want you so much, Sir.”
    He hummed in agreement and his fingers moved again, stirring just a little against my nerve endings. 
    “And... do you think that deserves punishment or reward?” 
    I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was smiling but that helped little in finding an answer. Bent over like that, my hamstrings were pulled tight and each time I lost control, each time I moaned, my toes rose from the ground, swaying in the air. He didn’t push them back down, but I had a feeling he stopped touching as long as they weren’t settled on the ground.
    “I don’t know...” I finally admitted when I realized I couldn’t even attempt to concentrate on the question. Again, he seemed to know and squeezed my clit so hard I yelped out loud. And yet, I wanted to thank him, wanted him to do it again and again.
    “It’s not a difficult question; just tell me what you think.”
    “I...” Shaking my head like a wet dog’s, I tried to swallow against the lump in my throat, tried to clear the fog in my head.
    “I don’t think it’s a bad thing...” I finally whispered, twisting my head to look up at him. My hair fell over the tape recorder and I realized I didn’t want a reward. I wanted to stay over his knees, I wanted him to do to me what a man like him did to a woman like me when she was laid out over his knees, arse high in the air. 
    I frowned, fingers curling against the carpet. 
    “But...” I whispered and then stopped. I couldn’t think of any good reason, nor did I have the words for anything else. His eyes met mine and I could feel him drawing lazy circles around my clit while he watched my face for what felt like a long time. Finally, he dragged his hand out from between my legs, wiped it on my panties and let his palm rest on my rear.
    “I agree. It’s a very good thing. No need for the double negative at all.” He paused and I held my breath. “You are doing it again, aren’t you? Trying to figure out what you can say to get me to do what you want?”
    There was no threat in his voice—I don’t think there ever was. He sounded tenderly amused if anything, but I colored crimson anyway.
    “I...” Shaking my head, I could feel my arms shake a little from the effort of holding me up. “I don’t even know what I want...” I whispered and he petted my hair, gently curled it against his fingers until I sighed and visibly calmed.
    “Try...” he finally reminded me. “Try to purge it from your mind. Try not to worry. You don’t have to figure it out right now. That’s the beauty of it. Just... relax. Here, start in your feet and your thighs, you can let go, I’m strong enough.”
    I swallowed hard but there was nothing in his face that I mistrusted and the way I held myself and twisted my neck felt harsh and wrong. His instructions reminded me of a yoga class, but they were easy enough to follow. As I relaxed them, my feet and calves lifted off the ground and Paul petted my toes.
    “There you go.” His voice was calming and almost instinctively, I drew a deeper breath. “Now your head and your arms, just let them hang. Here... put that under your forehead.”
    He handed me my bunched up and smelly panties, but when they