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X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2002 12:55:51 -0400
Subject: {ASSM} A Close Examination of Monique {Robert Newman} (MF cons Mdom bd rom oral pett veg real)
Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2002 18:10:04 -0400
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"A Close Examination of Monique" 
   by Robert Newman


Her fingers tense to the touch of my lips, as I trace my tongue 
unhurriedly from one to the next. Her palms are downwards 
against the board, and I feel the tiny hairs on the back of her 
hand rise under my lips. She has beautiful hands. I kiss her 
knuckles, then move on towards her wrists, where I linger to 
savour how the ropes hold her firm, passing three times round 
her wrist and the board which is cut exactly to her shape. I am 
glad we had this board made; a simple affair made from thick, 
laminated wood and cut to a shape made from tracing round her 
naked body with a marker pen, and we both remember the simple 
excitement that exercise alone caused us, not just from the 
journey of the pen and my hand which guided it, but from the 
anticipation of why she was being traced in this way. The 
completed board, slightly padded, is now mounted horizontally on 
stout tubular metal legs well able to take her weight and my own.

I open my eyes to see how the ropes hold her for my pleasure. I 
extend my tongue to her, making her tense her hand and tighten 
the rope's grip. I like to see her bound like this, like to see 
her struggle as if she wants to escape, even though we both know 
she does not. Upwards, the longer hairs on her arms rising from 
the goose bumps caused by my teasing tongue. I sense her hold 
her breath as my tongue teases, slowing down then speeding up 
towards the nerve centers at her inner elbow. I linger there 
awhile, using kisses now to make her see she has more erogenous 
zones than she was aware of.

Her breathing has quickened now and is unsteady. I wonder if I 
could make her come from just kissing her arms? I think, with 
the right situation and the right choice of words, I could, but 
that is for another day. Upwards again. The ropes which hold her 
arms down brush under my lips as I continue. Inches away from my 
eyes and lips I see the swell of her breast as her chest rises 
and falls. Goose bumps there, too. Her nipple stands proud 
before my eyes, hard, dry just waiting to be kissed and caressed. 
But her nipples are intended for my downward journey. In time. 
We are in no hurry.

My kiss reaches the inside of her upper arm. I wet my lips and 
leave trails of saliva on her skin to go cold and remind her of 
where I have been. The swell of her breast is against my cheek. 
Her perfect scent excites me. I am at her armpit now, her fresh 
perspiration an aphrodisiac to be savored. I kiss slowly from 
there towards her neck, where her collar holds her neck to the 
board. It is not tight, but prevents her moving away. I can feel 
her heartbeat under my lips on her neck as I slide my tongue 
under the collar to remind her that it is mine. I have fitted it 
to her. She belongs to me.

Upwards again, this part of my journey almost done. The rest of 
her neck, then her ears, so sensitive to my kiss and my breath. 
I pull her lobe between my lips and push the tip of my tongue 
inside her ear, holding her head still as she tries to twist 
away from the unbearable pleasure it brings. I whisper in this, 
her left ear, "I love you," then I move to her right and repeat. 
Her mouth answers me with words and her body answers me with 
reactions.

I kiss from her right ear to her neck and then up to her mouth. 
She makes no attempt to twist away as I kiss her lips, but I 
hold her face anyway, to allow her to revel in my power, not 
because I need the power but because we both need to acknowledge 
it. I move my face away and look at hers. Even with the 
blindfold she is stunningly beautiful. I spend some minutes 
drinking the sight of her in. She remains there, not moving. She 
knows I am looking at her, and she knows I can see her. All of 
her, naked and bound before me.

I dip my head to her lips again, tracing their outline with my 
tongue as her own tongue reaches out to meet me. I love her 
tongue, whether it be used to talk and tease in her fun way that 
enthrals me so or whether it be caressing the most intimate 
parts of me. For now her tongue is playing games with my own, 
which I slow down so as to remember these sensations. I 
concentrate on our tongues. How many people, I wonder, use their 
tongues in such love play without really concentrating on the 
sensations there? This needs time, not speed.

Later, much later, my tongue moves again, straight down this 
time, across her chin and to her throat, stopping at the collar 
to take it between my teeth and tug it to remind her again of 
its symbolism. Then on, down her chest until it rests midway 
between her breasts. I ask her, "left or right?" but all I get 
is an excited moan and a push of her body as she strains up 
against her bonds to meet me. Right, I think, following that 
perfect texture across the breast and onto the nipple, drawing a 
gasp from her as I get there, then more gasps as my tongue 
circles it and finally my lips enclose it and draw it in. 
Between my lips I hold it and use my tongue to flick across it. 
She is pleading now, "I need to come, master, please make me 
come." But she will come, when I am ready. Not yet, but when I am 
ready.

Time to move east, directly from her right breast, down the 
valley between to the other, the anticipation of the repetition 
exciting her before I get there. I move back again, watching her 
as her chest rises and falls with increasing urgency, the 
wetness of my saliva still glistening on her nipples where I left 
it to cool and excite.

Back to the center I go, then down, across the single rope 
beneath her breasts which holds her chest down, then on to the 
flatness of her tummy. Her muscles are hard, expectant. She 
knows where I am going but has no idea how long I will take to 
get there or by which route. My tongue lingers in her navel, then 
travels outwards to her hipbone, teasing and kissing 
that oh-so-sensitive point just inside the pelvic 
bone where that glorious flatness of her stomach starts. Then 
across, to the other side, zig-zagging to left and right 
and going tortuously further towards her pubis with each 
traverse.

My mouth has reached the top of her mound now, and she 
is trying everything to get me to make contact. Her words are a 
rush of sexual delirium now, mainly "please, please, please...". 
But I am not ready yet. I move away and look down at her as her 
frustration makes her relax and sag back onto the board. She is 
beautiful, the slick of perspiration making her skin glow. Words 
of frustration now, "Please, why are you teasing me?" I laugh a 
reply. "Please, I have to come." she begs. "Soon, I promise, 
but when you do it will be so good, I promise you. Do you trust 
me, my love?" "Yes." "Then wait for me, you will know the moment.
You will come at exactly the moment I choose for you to, and 
then you will come again, then once more, three times in all. 
Then you will need to sleep." Silence.

I keep looking at her relaxed form. It is not often that one has 
the opportunity or takes the time to examine a girl in that much 
detail. My head is directly above her pussy, her legs parted by 
the board, and her thighs held fast by more ropes. Her labia are 
nicely moist from my work, and I touch the wetness with one 
finger, causing her to tense and gasp. I taste the moisture, 
then allow her to taste too. I collect more and wipe it round her 
lips, then reach up to kiss it off again. I love the taste of 
her arousal. I kiss her lips and then push my wet fingers between 
us, our tongues devouring me as we kiss.

The temptation to simply straddle her face and thrust in to take 
my own selfish pleasure is almost too strong to resist, yet I do.
That will come later. For this time my purpose is to demonstrate 
to this lovely lady that I can drive her wild with sexual 
frenzy, and allow her release only when I decide. I stand and go 
to her feet.

I kneel at her feet and trace my tongue slowly up the underside. 
The sensation is unbearable at first, and her foot wriggles this 
way and that to escape, but the rope which holds her ankle and 
my own hand stopping her twisting prevent such escape. I continue 
licking the puckered skin. My tongue traces upwards again. She 
is moaning now, her head thrashing from side to side as much as 
her collar allows. This time I don't stop, and my tongue goes 
between her first and second toes, before my lips surround her 
big toe. When I decide to move on I kiss and suck each toe in 
turn before repeating the whole process on the other foot. She 
is almost sobbing now, not with sadness but because she needs 
release. Soon, my darling, very soon.

My lips and tongue start the wonderfully long journey up the 
insides of her legs, from one to the other, kissing, licking, 
moving slowly but steadily higher. I pause to lick the hollows 
of her ankles, then trail my tongue along her calf muscles. I use 
long movements to travel between the hollows and bumps, licking 
up and down her calf and stopping at her ankles and knees to 
press the pleasure home.

I stop also wherever there is a rope holding her. She is 
submissive by choice, not because I have made her that way, so 
she enjoys the ropes, and anything I do to remind her the ropes 
are holding her gives her an extra kick. So I pause at her 
ropes, I bite and pull them, I lick beneath them, I slide my 
fingers under them so they tighten on her. I push her limbs 
against them to remind her she cannot move, cannot escape. Her 
legs have ropes at the ankles, above the knees and at the 
thickest part of her thighs. My tongue is now concentrating on 
the indentations at the sides of her knees and the ropes just 
above. I am waiting and she is waiting. Her first orgasm is 
minutes away and I feel that somehow she senses it.

I take a moment to look at her face, letting my fingers keep the 
sensations going as they trace her inner thighs. Her head is 
still moving to and fro, saliva dribbling from her mouth. If she 
could see herself I have no doubt she would say she looked a 
mess, with her hair matted and disheveled and her make-up 
awry, but to me she looks so beautiful, so abandoned, so mine. I 
have to kiss that mouth for a moment, I have to use my tongue to 
drink her saliva, to devour whatever I can.

She tenses as she feels me moving lower again. I place my tongue 
on her right thigh, just above the knee rope. I make sure it is 
as wet as I can, since I need enough moisture to lubricate my 
way until I can get to more moisture of a different kind. I start 
to move upwards and I feel her whole body tense. Upwards, will I 
stop? I reach the thigh rope and cross it. The heat and the 
scent of her invade my senses. Upwards until her other thigh is 
against my face too. She is gasping now. My tongue has reached 
her and lashes across her clitoris and she comes as her pussy 
convulses and squeezes a bead of her moisture out and into my 
waiting mouth. Her gasps are deafening. I take hold of her hands 
with my own and feel her grip as the spasms take her. My tongue 
vibrates between her labia and she is shaking, crying, sobbing, 
gasping.

I still my tongue, but leave it in place. Her staccato spasms 
eventually subside, her grip on my hands turns from a grip of 
desperation back to grasps of love. I speak into her so she 
feels as well as hears me. "Relaxed?" She is about to reply when 
I trace my tongue upwards and across her clitoris again. She 
screams out and tenses, her hands gripping mine anew. If she 
could close her legs she would, because she is so sensitive 
there, but she cannot. I slow to a gentle circular movement 
around the hard bud, occasionally making contact and feeling the 
immediate reaction throughout her body as I do so. Soon she is 
ready, and I settle into a steady rhythm with the merest flicks 
of my tongue directly onto her clit, while retrieving my right 
hand and pushing two fingers deep into her, feeling the oiliness 
of her cervix and scraping forwards over her g-spot to 
bring about a second convulsive explosion.

She struggles to breathe, to cope with the sensations that take 
her beyond control as I tease out the last of her orgasm, then I 
gently kiss her bud as she subsides once more, keeping her on 
the boil while allowing her a few moments respite. She is trying 
to speak again, and I stop for long enough to listen. "Enough, 
please, I can't take any more." I tell her I said three and I 
meant three, and she knows better than to argue, after all, what 
can she do? I offer to get her a drink, which she accepts. I 
pour a large glass of fruit juice and go back to sit beside her. 
I take a sip of the juice and kiss her lips apart, allowing the 
liquid to flow from me and between her lips. We share an 
open-mouthed, fruit-flavored kiss, not swallowing 
but sharing it back and forth between us until we have absorbed 
it all.

I dip my finger in the juice and trickle droplets onto her lips, 
a drip at a time, her tongue reaching out to get the next. I 
allow a droplet to trail down the side of her mouth to her neck 
and recover it by licking back up the track it made. Then I take 
a large swig and in another open-mouthed kiss we share it 
back and forth, raising its temperature to our own. I love to 
look at her, and pull back to see the droplets running from her 
mouth. Half a glass left - just enough. I tell her to 
open her mouth and offer the glass to her, but from the angle she 
is at it spills and runs down her face. I allow the trickle from 
the glass to trail across her skin as I move the glass down, on 
her chest, running down her neck and making her shiver and 
giggle. Downwards I go again, pausing to drip some on her nipples, 
amused by the way it leaves colored patterns on her lovely skin. 
Down again, leaving a pool in her navel and making her tense 
again as it eventually runs between her legs.

With my other hand I part her labia and pour it directly onto 
her clit, emptying the rest of the glass slowly there. All that 
is left now is to drink my juice. She knows where it has gone 
because she felt it run there. Therefore she knows where I will 
go. Of course I start at her lips again, licking down onto her 
throat and then across her chest to her nipples. Despite herself 
she is rising to meet me. "No more" has little conviction now. 
Down across her stomach to her navel, plunging my tongue in to 
displace the pool of fluid collected there, and following it as 
it runs away.

All gone, I start another journey south, across her pubic mound 
and between those lips that I still hold apart. I lick along 
each of her outer labia in turn, taking each into my mouth gently 
as my tongue traces her inner lips. The juice has run lower and 
I follow it. I lick lower, teasing her whole anal area before 
going back to her beautiful fruit-flavored pussy. She 
knows now that her pleas are lost, that she will come again, 
because I have told her so. My tongue traces back up her body as 
my fingers start a regular rhythm within her.

I kiss her mouth, a clear message to her that her body is one, 
regardless of which part I kiss. I love all of her. My other 
hand pinches her nose, so to breathe she must do so through my 
mouth. The initial panic over, I breathe for her. I love to do 
this, since this way I can live her orgasm with her, feel as her 
need for breath quickens and loses control. She is seconds away 
and I intensify my movements to take her over the top, and she 
gasps for the breath I give her. She moans into my mouth, a 
mixture of words of love spoken within me. I do not release her, 
but stay with my mouth locked to hers as she peaks and gradually 
subsides, and our breathing returns to regular, relaxed 
normality. Her body is covered in sweat and juice and she looks 
gorgeous.

I take off her blindfold and smile at her as she smiles back at 
me. We talk about what has happened and what we mean to each 
other. She seems in no hurry to be released and I am in no hurry 
to release her. We kiss sometimes and we talk at other times. I 
feed her pieces of fresh fruit and squeeze them on her breasts 
so I can lick them off her again. At a whim I put strawberries on 
her chest and stomach and I climb upon her to squash them 
between us, then raise my cock to her mouth so she can lick
them from me. I love to watch her lick me, her eyes closed as
she savours the pleasure she gives me.

She asks me if she can try to repay some of the pleasure she has 
had today, and I tease her, asking how she can possibly do
anything since she is still tied fast. I make a decision,
climb astride her and push my cock between her lips....


                        -- The End --


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