Having finished a New Year’s Eve candlelight dinner and a bottle of wine, I had retreated to the living room, and Sarah stayed seated at the Kitchen table. Each of us wrote down on small squares of colored paper what we wanted to do to the other, or have done to us.

In the living room, the environment had already been set up by Sarah. A blanket was spread out on the floor, two large pillows were on the blanket and candles were placed everywhere.

Sarah came into the living room carrying another bottle of wine, two glasses and a large bowl.

“Finished?” she asked.

“Last one,” I replied.

Each of us had fourteen squares of paper; mine were a light blue; Sarah’s were a light yellow. Seven squares of paper were to be used to list what we would want to do to the other; seven were to be used for what we wanted done to ourselves.

“Done!” I said, I finishing my last description on one of the squares.

I had not used all of my squares, and I did not know whether Sarah had used all of hers. Not that it mattered. I assumed that once into the game, there would be a lot of “spur of the moment” thoughts and ideas by both of us. In other words, there were things that were going to be tried and done that probably had not been written down by either of us.

Sarah held out the bowl; I tossed my folded squares into the bowl with hers; we opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses reasonable full; sat on the floor facing each other; and, toasted to us and the New Year.

This was new and exciting. There is always some sexual excitement in the air when you both know that you are going to be involved in amazing, mind-blowing sex for the next few hours. From my perspective, it never gets old knowing that the attractive lady sitting across from me wants to fuck me and be fucked.

After a few sips of wine, we settled in to the task at hand: determining what we were going to do for the evening.

“Ladies first,” I told Sarah.

“How many are we going to pick out?” she asked.

In my excitement, I had forgotten one rule of the game. While we may have written down everything we could think of doing to the other, or having done to us, a big part of the excitement was learning which of those things we would do. We weren’t going to pick out all the pieces of folded paper, so we needed to decide how many we would pick.

Hopefully, things, ideas, wants and desires would be equal; some for each of us. But there was just as likely a chance that it would be lopsided; that we could pick out of the bowl all the things Sarah wanted, for example, and nothing of what I wanted.

To hopefully get a balance, we decided on six to eight selections. Six would be the actual number, with an additional two picks if we thought the selections were too one-sided.

I was already hard. Sarah’s nipples peeked through her T-shirt.

I held the bowl high above Sarah’s head and she reached in and picked a piece of paper. “Sarah’s game” had begun.

The first chosen piece of folded paper was light blue, so we both knew it was one of mine. Sarah open the paper, looked at was written on it, and then read it out loud.

“Michael wants to take nude pictures of Sarah.”

“Do you have your own camera and film? Sarah inquired.

“No. I thought I’d use your camera and film,” I told her. “And, I thought you could do the film development, as well.”

“Have you ever taken pictures of a naked woman before?” she asked.

“Nope,” I said with a smile. “First time.”

“So I’m your first,” she said. “That makes it interesting.”

The piece of blue paper was placed on the blanket next to Sarah.

Sarah held the bowl up over me and I picked the second piece of folded paper. It was light blue again.

I opened it and read it to her.

“Tie up Sarah and tease her until she cums.”

“That just gave me chills,” she said.

I held up the bowl and Sarah picked out a light yellow piece of paper, opened it and read it to me.

“Sarah wants to be fucked in the ass.”

“Yes!” I said to myself.

“Are you up for that?” she asked, looking at me for a positive response.

“Absolutely.” I said, leaving no question in her mind that I’d love to fuck her in the ass.

The game was getting very interesting. I know that I was happy with the results so far, and assumed Sarah was as well. Our selection pace picked up speed.

I held the bowl up for Sarah to make another pick.

It was a light blue piece of paper.

“Fuck Sarah in the ass!” it read.

At least the two of us were thinking along the same lines.

I picked next. It was a light yellow piece of paper.

It read, “Sarah wants to restrain Michael and tease him until he begs me to let him cum.”

That was a good one. I had never been restrained or tied up before, and there was some anxiousness on my part. Still, I would go through with it, knowing how good Sarah was at teasing. Also, it was New Year’s Eve and I had already had about four or five glasses of wine, a libation I usually never drink.

Sarah had the next pick, and it was the sixth selection, the point at which we would stop and see where we were.

She picked out a light yellow piece of paper.

“Anal play.” That was all that was written on the paper.

While we had a good selection of things to do and try, there was some overlap in the anal category and some over generalizations that opened the door to many possibilities.

We decided to pick two more.

I picked out a light blue piece of paper and unfolded it.

“I want to Cum on Sarah’s face, nipples and pussy.”

Sarah picked out the final piece of paper. It was one of hers.

“I want to be fucked hard and rough, again and again, and cum several times.”

Talk about having chills. The way Sarah read it, the look on her face, made me tingle all over.

There was also a little look of relief on her face, as in good, I’m glad we finally picked that one.

We were both satisfied with the selections, and there were still plenty of pieces of paper left in the bowl for a future game.

We kissed. “Are we good?” she whispered, as our lips barely still touched.

“Yes.” I whispered back, pulling her close and burying my tongue down her throat.

There is one problem with this game.

After all the excitement, interest and wanting having been built up, we had to stop and gather what we each needed to accomplish each of our tasks.

Sarah and I parted, each in search of things, toys, restraints and other paraphernalia that we would bring to the party.

We met at the center of the blanket, poured two more glasses of wine, and sorted through what we had gathered.

Sarah had her “made for Sarah” leather restraint. I had found some rope, as well as four old, used silk ties I had saved.

Sarah had not one but two silk scarves; a bottle of K-Y oil; and her hair brush, vibrator, two strange green feathers (not like bird feathers, more ornamental-like), a wooden box containing her water color paint brushes, a roll of duct tape, two or three kitchen towels, and one of her cameras, complete with a flash and color film.

Sarah had not taken very long searching for her items, and I remember thinking that she had already thought about what she would need and where it was located.

I had also brought a hair brush, just in case Sarah did not bring one, a large feather and two old “clothes line clips” that I had found and knew would be of use someday.

We lit the candles, turned off most of the lights, put some music on, and Sarah showed me how to use her camera.

“What do we do first?” I asked, really not caring about the answer and just wanting to get things under way.

“Take some pictures.” Sarah said. “How do you want me?”

“Preferably naked and on the couch.” I indicated, nervously attempting to add a little humor.

I sat on the leather chair and watched as Sarah took off her clothes.

“I’ve said it before,” she said as she took off her pants. “The way you look at my body makes me so wet. That look; that hungry, I want to fuck you look, gives me chills all over.”

Sarah straddled me on the chair and we kissed for several minutes.

“This part is your show,” she whispered in my ear. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Change places with me,” I indicated. “And spread your legs.”

I took pictures of Sarah’s pussy, her pussy held open with her fingers, and her clit. There were close ups as well as some pictures standing back, so I could include her pussy and asshole in the shot. I took pictures of her playing with herself; close up nipple pictures; and pictures of her tits. I had her kneel on the floor and took pictures of her ass and pussy, as well as her tits and hard nipples hanging down. And, I took full body pictures, making sure not to include her whole face.

I stopped with about a half dozen pictures left on the film, knowing that there would likely be some interesting pictures to take later on.

It has been my experience that when a lady poses for such pictures, she gets as turned on as the guy taking the pictures. Sarah was the first to let me in on this little secret.

By the time I was done, Sarah was very wet, and had that “I need to be fucked” look on her face.

“Are you done?” she asked.

“For the time being.” I answered. “I think there will be opportunities for some good pictures a little later in the evening, so I’ve saved some film for later.”

“I’ve got more film available. You can take as many pictures as you like.” Sarah instructed.

Knowing that I had more film available, I took a few more pictures: Sarah holding up one tit and licking her nipple; her vibrator on her clit; and, the hair brush handle in her slit.

When I was done, and Sarah was assured that I had taken all the pictures I was going to take for the time being, she indicated that it was now her turn.

“Sit on the leather chair and extend your arms out over the arms of the chair.”She instructed.

I sat on the chair and placed each of my arms on the arms of the leather chair. Sarah placed a kitchen towel over each bare arm and proceeded to use the duck tape to tape my arms and wrists to the leather chair.

It is a strange but highly erotic feeling, suddenly being unable to move, and having to trust yourself to a naked, wanting, needy lady standing in front of you.

Sarah removed my shoes and socks; then unbuckled my belt, pulled down the zipper and removed my pants; and finally pulled off my boxer shorts releasing my hard, erect manhood.

She sat back on the blanket for several minutes and stared at my cock.

“That is impressive. Particularly from this angle, that is a very impressive cock. Let’s take some pictures of it for Trish and my other friends.”

She grabbed the camera and finished off the roll of film with pictures of my cock taken from in front and just below, which emphasized its length and width.

Sarah went to her room, leaving me disabled in the chair, and retrieved more film, re-loading the camera as she returned to the living room.

“Want to take some more?” she asked.

It didn’t matter if I answered or what I said, Sarah already knew she was going to take more pictures.

Reaching out with her hand and grabbing my hard shaft, she tugged on my manhood until a stream of pre-cum ran out of the head and down the shaft. Sarah took a few pictures of my cock with the pre-cum running down the shaft.

She held the base of my shaft with her left hand and took a picture, hoping to indicate that there was room on my shaft for another hand and maybe even a third.

Putting down the camera, she asked if I wanted a “safe” word.

“Why?” I asked. “Are you planning on hurting me?

I had said it in jest, but when Sarah said, “You never know”, she had my full attention. My anxiety level jumped about ten times higher. What had she planned?

“You should have a safe word, just in case.” She indicated again.

I thought for a few seconds.

“Game over.” I said. “That’s the safe word, “game over.”

“Okay.” She said.

Sarah was good at teasing. No, Sarah was great at teasing. She just had that kind of mind, and enjoyed teasing me until I had an orgasm or pleaded with her to let me have an orgasm.

She didn’t talk; she didn’t make a sound; she just went about her business; teasing my manhood until I couldn’t take any more.

She licked and played with my cock; she sucked on and played with the sensitive skin on the head; she gave me a great blow job, taking my entire cock in her mouth and jerking my shaft with both hands. When I was about ready to cum, she stopped.

My dick oozed pre-cum and started to go limp as Sarah gathered together some of her toys.

Sometimes, when teasing, she would blindfold me. Not now. Sarah wanted me to watch; to see everything that she was about to do to me.

She gave me another great blow job, sucking on just the head of my cock, turning it red and purple before she stopped again.

Once again, pre-cum flowed out and down my shaft.

She continued sucking, licking and stroking, each time bringing me to the point of almost shooting my load, but stopping just short of that point and letting my cock go a little limp.

She ran a silk scarf over the head of my cock, making the sensitive skin burn with pleasure.

She wrapped the scarf around the base of my cock and pulled it up and off, letting the silky fabric run on circles against the full shaft.

When that scarf got soaked with pre-cum, she used a second scarf and repeated everything she had just done.

It was a little painful and very pleasurable, having the silky material run over my cock, I know I moaned and probably said some things. I’m not sure. My focus was on Sarah using the scarves to almost make me cum.

So much pre-cum had come out and drained down my cock to my balls and beyond that Sarah had to use one of the other kitchen towels to wipe my cock and balls off. Even in doing that, she made it a tickling, teasing experience.

By now, I wanted and needed to cum, but there was more to endure.

Sarah took her soft bristled hair brush and stroked the sides of my shaft with the bristles. It felt good on my shaft, but hurt when she would let the bristle drift up onto the head of my cock.

“How am I doing so far?” she asked.

“That depends,” I said. “If you are trying to make me cum, you’re not doing so well. But if you’re trying to drive me nuts, you’re doing a great job.”

She said no more, climbing onto my lap, straddling me, holding my shaft in her left hand, positioning the head right on her slit, and sliding my entire manhood into her wet pussy.

Slowly, she slid her pussy up and down my shaft.

“How much do you think you can take?” she asked.

“It feels really good. I don’t think I can last much longer.”

She took her breast on her hand and put her nipple into my mouth.

“Suck on it. Bite it. Mmmmmm.”

We kissed several long, passionate, wet kisses, trying to outdo each other with our battling tongues.

She leaned back so I could see her whole body, as she continued to slowly slide her wet hole over my manhood.

“I’m going to cum, baby,” I told her.

“No you’re not. Not yet,” she whispered as she let my cock slide out of her cunt and resumed her position kneeling in front of me.

Next on her agenda were those exotic, green, fluffy feathers. They were not meant to make me cum; they were used just to tickle my cock and balls. She tickled my shaft and the head, and my balls, over and over. It wasn’t the kind of tickling that made one laugh; it was the kind that felt so good and lasted so long that I had to grit my teeth and tense my body just to get through the experience.

What followed were two more blow jobs that brought me to the edge again, followed by some stroking and free flowing pre-cum, and her letting my cock relax a bit and lean to one side.

There was one difference this time. The pre-cum was now mixed with cum. This bringing me to the point of orgasm and then not letting me cum, over and over, and all the teasing and tickling, was causing me to produce so much cum that I was full; so full that cum was now mixing in with the pre-cum. My balls were beginning to ache.

“I need to cum,” I told her.

“I know,” she said

“I really need to cum,” I said again, this time with a little more emphases.

“When I’m ready,” she said with a little smile on her face.

Sarah was as turned on as me. Where she knelt and sat on the blanket was now all wet with her juices. Her pussy was as free flowing as my cock. And her juices had run down the inside of her thighs.

She grabbed the long wooden box, opened it and began to take out paint brushes; the kind used for water color or oil paintings.

I’d like to say that the various paint brushes felt good on my cock, but can’t. I could feel some of them; others I could hardly feel at all; and some tickled the head of my cock and balls. Mostly, the brushes just spread around the pre-cum oozing out of my cock.

What I did like was watching Sarah use the brushes on me. Sometimes the person doing the teasing gets as much or more pleasure than the person they are teasing. This seemed to be the case with the brushes.

Sarah took another sip of her wine and sat in front of me. Somewhere around forty-five minutes had passed.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“I’m ready to cum,” I responded.

Sarah held onto my cock with both hands and licked the head. As she cleaned off what pre-cum there was, more pre-cum and cum ran out, down and over her hands. She couldn’t keep up with all of it.

She sat back, and with one hand very lightly held around my shaft, she began to slowly stroke me up and down. The palm of her hand and fingers hardly touched by cock; it was more like teasing and tickling at the same time, with little shots of electricity running through my manhood when some part of her hand touched my cock.

As unusual as it sounds, I was experiencing little orgasms; there was a wonderful feeling of constant pleasure, and every once in a while a small spurt of cum would dribble out and down the shaft and over her hand. I had never experienced anything like it. It felt so good; my body was shaking; yet, despite cum dribbling out, I had not yet experienced the release I needed.

Sarah continued this very light stroking and tickling. The look on her face was priceless. Despite my being the one undergoing the teasing, she looked like she might cum any second. The look on her face was enough to make me cum.

The next few minutes are difficult to describe.

Despite wanting to watch, I felt my eyes closing and my head tilting back as the pleasure increased. I went to that place inside where you feel what is happening, but have no control over it or yourself.

My muscles tightened; I gripped the arms of the chair tightly with my fingers, and I could feel my face contort as the pleasure raced through me.

Every molecule, every fiber in my body began to converge at the base of my cock; I could feel my blood trying to exit my body through every pore; I thought my head was going to explode with the pressure; my body lifted off of the chair.

I was there; I was going to cum; the pressure in my body and the tension were incredibly strong; my hard shaft was waiting to explode.

Sarah continued to slowly and lightly stroke my shaft; the head of my red and purple cock swelled. I stayed there, in the moment; in the darkness, somewhere deep in my body. I had lost all control. I needed release, but there was none.

The pleasure I felt was overwhelming, and I heard one long wail of pleasure.

It was coming from me.

I stayed there, locked in a world between incredible pleasure and the pain of no release; every muscle tightened; blood rushed to my face; my body stiffened and was raised up off the leather chair; my teeth were clinched and I grimaced with the intensity of it all.

Everything within me, nerves, blood, anxiety, tension, pressure, thoughts, was focused on the base of my cock. I needed some release or I was going to pass out.

Sarah never stopped; her slow stroking and light touch was causing cum to flow out in gobs and streams. There were little orgasms, but still no release.

There were words; I think they were words. I begged to cum; I think I begged to cum. I pleaded; I think I pleaded.

Sarah said nothing.

Suddenly, everything released at once and I experienced a huge orgasm.

I shot long ribbons of cum up into the air, over and over again. My body was consumed with intense pleasure. It did not stop, the pleasure continuing for several minutes, as my cock continued to spurt my white goo.

When I sank back onto the chair, my cock starting to go limp, and a growing ache in my groin, and I was able to open my eyes, Sarah was still stroking my soft cock.

Cum was in her hair and on her face. Some cum had dribbled down to or had landed on her tits and nipples. Her hand and arm were covered with gobs of cum. There was even a streak of cum running down her back to her ass.

“Wow, you really came.” Sarah observed. “I’ve never seen so much cum.”

I sat there, trying to catch my breath, aware for the first time that I was sweating. My body still twitching every few seconds as a fading wave of pleasure rolled through my body.

Sarah cut the duct tape on my wrists. In my throes of passion I had not realized that the duct tape had cut off the circulation to my hands leaving my hands red and purple, and had left large, deep marks on my wrists.

After cutting the tape, Sarah moved herself up onto my lap. There were streaks of cum in her hair; and more cum that had landed on her face and run down past her nose and cheeks to her lips and chin.

I put my arms around her, still somewhat breathless and not able to speak, and we kissed a deep passionate kiss. Cum on her lips and chin spread across my lips and face.

“I liked teasing you,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

She nestled her head on my neck and waited for me to recover.

I watched as cum drip from her chin onto her tits and legs.

“I want to be fucked like I’ve never been fucked before,” she whispered in my ear.