Jenny wants to keep John as her boyfriend, and yet she is terrified of what he will make her do.
This intensely psychological 8800-word story of domination and submission will keep your mind churning at nights. It is the sequel to HER FIRST CLIT RING.
Excerpt:
As a waitress comes over to pour coffee, John still has his hand on her thigh. He has inched his way upward so that his fingers rest on the silky skin upon her inner thigh, and he's stroking it purposefully, daringly.
"Refills, everyone?" the waitress says. She's one of those perky raven-haired types that dominate the Young Christians' Society, or something or other.
"Sure," John flashes his lady-killer smile.
She responds by batting her long eyelashes flirtatiously. John has that effect on women, as he's wont to remind Jenny over and over again. Only this time, his fingers creep up to her naked pussy and snare the ring in her clit in a pincer grip.
Jenny gasps. The waitress takes note of her flushed face as she fills her coffee mug. John twists the ring, resulting in her clit exploding in sudden sensory overload. It's all she can do to strangle the cry that threatens to escape her throat.
Billy watches all this with an amused curl of his right lip. It's almost like a snarl. He knows what John is doing all right.
"Don't worry, sugar, I'm not gonna steal him from ya," the waitress says. "Though he's a right dreamboat, so you'd better be holding on to him hard and fast."
"You've got that right," John says, never taking his gaze off the waitress's smiling face.
One of his fingers slips into her lower ring and attempts to thread itself through it. It's a maneuver that requires a fair amount of handling, so his hand activity under her skirt is blatant and obvious. The waitress glances down, as he clearly wants her to, and spills the coffee over the rim of the mug she's pouring it into.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's OK," John says.
They lock eyes again, and the undertones are unmistakable. Hers are saying 'I think you're sex on legs', and his are saying 'This is what I can do to women . . . including you. See what I'm doing to my girlfriend?'
As for Billy, he's leaning against the seat, putting his hands to the back of his head and enjoying the display. Jenny doesn't know what to make out of all this - except that John is putting his stamp of authority over her again. I can make you squirm in public, and there's nothing you can do about it.
As the waitress leaves with a lingering look of desire on John's face, Billy chortles. "You're my role model, man."
John laughs. "That gets them every time. So you want to do this?"
"Do what?"
"Get a front row seat." John's fingers dive into the furrows around her clit - the secret, moist ones that send electric thrills coursing all over her loins.
"Refills, everyone?" the waitress says. She's one of those perky raven-haired types that dominate the Young Christians' Society, or something or other.
"Sure," John flashes his lady-killer smile.
She responds by batting her long eyelashes flirtatiously. John has that effect on women, as he's wont to remind Jenny over and over again. Only this time, his fingers creep up to her naked pussy and snare the ring in her clit in a pincer grip.
Jenny gasps. The waitress takes note of her flushed face as she fills her coffee mug. John twists the ring, resulting in her clit exploding in sudden sensory overload. It's all she can do to strangle the cry that threatens to escape her throat.
Billy watches all this with an amused curl of his right lip. It's almost like a snarl. He knows what John is doing all right.
"Don't worry, sugar, I'm not gonna steal him from ya," the waitress says. "Though he's a right dreamboat, so you'd better be holding on to him hard and fast."
"You've got that right," John says, never taking his gaze off the waitress's smiling face.
One of his fingers slips into her lower ring and attempts to thread itself through it. It's a maneuver that requires a fair amount of handling, so his hand activity under her skirt is blatant and obvious. The waitress glances down, as he clearly wants her to, and spills the coffee over the rim of the mug she's pouring it into.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's OK," John says.
They lock eyes again, and the undertones are unmistakable. Hers are saying 'I think you're sex on legs', and his are saying 'This is what I can do to women . . . including you. See what I'm doing to my girlfriend?'
As for Billy, he's leaning against the seat, putting his hands to the back of his head and enjoying the display. Jenny doesn't know what to make out of all this - except that John is putting his stamp of authority over her again. I can make you squirm in public, and there's nothing you can do about it.
As the waitress leaves with a lingering look of desire on John's face, Billy chortles. "You're my role model, man."
John laughs. "That gets them every time. So you want to do this?"
"Do what?"
"Get a front row seat." John's fingers dive into the furrows around her clit - the secret, moist ones that send electric thrills coursing all over her loins.
