The motion around her c**t was bringing her closer to the point of no return. She wondered if she should stop. Perhaps seeing her orgasm, her body overcome by ineffable pleasure, would make her for that moment at least appear weak, in thrall to her body not in charge of it. But m**********g before him had excited her greatly. By a supreme act of will, she could make herself stop, but she would risk an apparent moment of weakness in exchange for that pleasure. But also, seeing how great was her desire might encourage him into thinking he might yet still win her over, that this long ordeal of dissatisfied lust on his part might have a happy ending. She wanted him to feel that, because in some obscure way she thought it would be her revenge, to spin it out almost endlessly until the poor man
