“Alex, you’re humping my feet. Not f*****g them. What a question! I’m a lady.”
“I’m sorry, Kimberly.”
She grinned. She looked beyond amused and seemed to be enjoying herself, but watching his struggle didn’t look like it was turning her on. Alex guessed any minute, any second, she might tire of their play, say, “Time’s up,” and order him back onto his knees and reinstate his week sentence. This incited a sense of urgency that exacerbated his fear of impotency.
Then Kimberly began to help. Her big toe moved against the head of his c**k. This slight circular motion, or her indulgence in making it, escalated him from the plane of enjoying the arousal but not distracted enough by the pleasure to prevent dulling it through analysis to the plane of being purely in tune with his body. He did
