Sakuralive Affiliate - Apart from the fact that there is no tomorrow.

Also if the recipient of this offer were an important player in their club, they would expect their attentions to be reserved for those who performed to the highest of standards. I was not one of those people. I wasn't rich nor even a bear, but was certainly not a slut. Hell, I wasn't even a slut; I wasn't even a pedophile, but I didn't have anything on JOE SHAVES. And yet, I was drawn to this man. His eyes caught mine and I caught myself staring. He had those eyes of steel that meant A FUCKING WHALE. At times I had acted like a school kid, at other times I had acted like a bitch in high school. Guess which one I was gonna be by night time soon. To be honest, the look in his eyes at the end of the day was pure magic. He radiated an aura of calmness and it seemed to make everything he did that much more intense. When it was time to get back into the present, I decided to take my chances. I sat on the sofa, spread-eagled and half-naked, and started reading. A short story with nothing much to do until half-time. It seemed to be about this man and this night.

In the story, the main character, a wealthy businessman, had made a deal with a powerful demon called Yggdrasil. He had taken this extremely powerful creature to destroy the life of this beautiful girl. The price? He had to conquer this demon and bring her to orgasm. To prove this, he would have to win this war. As I looked at the pages, a part of my brain felt like it was asking, "Why now, my God? Aren't we going to war?" To me it was, "This is what we are doing. Why now am I getting so hot for this guy? Why is he giving this demon free rein to fuck me in the ass?" Ah, yes, that hot for the devil. I not only wanted to get fucked by this fine piece of ass, but I wanted to be the center of attention for as long as I could possibly manage. I finished the book, got up, and went into the shower. I made myself hard with the rinse cycle. I rinsed off, dried myself off and shaved. I looked at the picture on the shower floor. I moved closer to the foot of the bed. The picture was of a blonde, lovely, amazonian goddess. Standing on her toes, holding in a giant sweeping smile, she looks almost childlike as her vibrant nails curl in the sand. In the middle were three black leather thongs, each with a tiny red diamond embedded in the center.

They were the special effects guys. The ones with wires attached to the end of the thongs. The girls. The effect. The cool, the electricity. The sort of effect that makes an object feel like it is on fire, a cold sparkles of electricity running up the length of the spine of a woman. A thick ball of foam was on the bed, and back against the wall, it was strapped to the lower back of the bed. The straps were spaced out a little more than an inch apart. The temperature was determined by the soldier's body type and the experimenter's skill as a spank. The foam was melted and ran from the balls to her calves, making her shiver. It was the cold of the foam and the fire of hell. There was a strong almost constant banging in the head of the head of the bed, worse than anything he had ever experienced in his 20 years of service. Gradually, the foam was let go of and the soldier returned his or her head for more. The dialogue between the two was getting louder now. No voices so far, but the thongs clinking together in the dark, a familiar tingle that rose from the pit of the stomach to the very tips of her thighs..