“Look at yourself,” you demand.

My eyes fix on the circular gold mirror in front of us, reflecting my naked flesh shivering for your touch. Your fingers softly gather every strand of my tousled waves and bring them back behind my neck, baring my breasts to both of our lust filled dark eyes.

Dark nipples slowly form darker tips right in front of us. Your calloused fingers trail down the side of neck, painting an invisible line down to my tightened areola. Not daring to take my eyes off us, I bring my own finger up my smooth abdomen. Slap. Tingles spread from the aching tip, to softer flesh around my chocolate areolas. Another slap.

“I said look at yourself, not touch yourself,” you admonish.

Hands now by my side, I continue to watch your fingers, my darkened peak a striking contrast between your thumb and forefinger. Moaning out, but never breaking eye contact as you roll my hardened nipple between your fingers. Hand now cupping my supple flesh, you lift it up, offering me my own tit. Looking into your dark pools, I stick my wet tongue out and flick my nipple with the tip of it.

Wrapping my hair around your hand, you pull my head back, away from my now saliva glistening nipple. Watching you reach back, my view obstructed by my own curves, but the metal clink of my clamps unmistakable. Expecting you to start with the first one on my wet nipple, I brace for the coolness against my puckered skin. Instead I feel the rubbered tip of my clamp slowly trail down my smooth mound…