Pleasuring ourselves is not wrong; it is our right.”
Heat was forming beneath her open palm and transmitting itself to the tender globe beneath the covering of the muslin shift she wore. Her nipple was resting under her palm and was growing hard.
“Move your hand so that you are cupping the mound of your breast. Now, gently lift your breast upward and hold it there until I tell you to release it.”
Jameela’s breath had quickened. She could feel the acceleration of her heartbeat as she sensed Dagan walking behind her.
“Bring your other hand down from your neck and cross it over your chest to cup your other breast. Good, now squeeze your breasts very gently. Again. Once more.”
She felt his hands slide down her arms until he was lightly gripping her forearms. With firm pressure, he pulled her arms against her.
“Ah,” Jameela sighed. The pressure was doing strange things to her body.
He lifted her to her feet, careful not to put too much pressure on her constricted breasts, and pulled her against him. Lowering his lips to her right ear, he ran his tongue along the sensitive outer spiral.
Jameela shuddered, a sudden heavy weight forming between her thighs. Her breathing was quicker, shallower.
“Now,” he whispered in her ear, “I want you to keep your eyes closed, while you undress.” He released her arms and stepped back.
Denied the strength of his strong arms, the heat of his hard body, Jameela felt bereft as he moved away from her. The clean scent of him, the warmth of his breath, combined to send pulsations of desire rippling through her body. The heaviness between her legs increased.
“Take off your gown, Wench,” he commanded in a husky voice.
Jameela crossed her hands and gripped the sides of her muslin shift. With one quick motion she pulled it over her head, feeling a cool draft play over her flesh. She stood with the shift clutched in one hand, her last bastion of safety until Dagan plucked it from her grip.
“Imagine the rain falling upon you,” he said and beneath her closed eyelids, Jameela sensed a burst of light as lightning speared the heavens. A moment later, thunder rolled as she experienced the make-believe cascade of rain sliding down her naked body.
“The rain is gentle. It is soft against your skin. It is warm and wet.”
She could feel the rain upon her and smiled.
“There is a single drop falling slowly down your left shoulder and onto your nipple,” he whispered. “I want you to take your middle finger and follow that drop as it falls.”
When she touched the sensitive flesh of her nipple, Jameela groaned.
“Circle that aching bud with you fingertip,” he coaxed. “No, go slowly, Wench. Very, very slowly.”
Sensations like electrical shocks were traveling down Jameela’s ribcage and through the lower part of her belly. Her breathing had become more erratic; tiny dots of sweat had formed on her upper lip.
“Now,” he whispered, his mouth against her ear. “Flick the tip of your fingernail across the nipple, back and forth.”
“Oh!” she gasped, the feeling one of pure intensity as she felt a wetness oozing from her core.
“Another raindrop is making its way down your right breast. Take your other hand and followed it to the nipple.”
Jameela’s head fell back against Dagan’s belly as she obeyed his directions. His hands went to her head, his fingers threading through her thick hair.
“Remove your left hand and place it palm up in your lap.”
She moaned, not wanting to escape the dual pleasure invading her chest but she did as she was told, laying her hand on the juncture of her thighs, feeling the wiry crispness of her nether curls along the base of her palm.
“Now, listen very carefully and do exactly as I say,” he ordered. His lips were hot against her ear and his warm breath sent shivers down her spine. “Take your right hand and move it to your left breast. I want you to use the nails of your thumb and middle finger to pluck gently
Heat was forming beneath her open palm and transmitting itself to the tender globe beneath the covering of the muslin shift she wore. Her nipple was resting under her palm and was growing hard.
“Move your hand so that you are cupping the mound of your breast. Now, gently lift your breast upward and hold it there until I tell you to release it.”
Jameela’s breath had quickened. She could feel the acceleration of her heartbeat as she sensed Dagan walking behind her.
“Bring your other hand down from your neck and cross it over your chest to cup your other breast. Good, now squeeze your breasts very gently. Again. Once more.”
She felt his hands slide down her arms until he was lightly gripping her forearms. With firm pressure, he pulled her arms against her.
“Ah,” Jameela sighed. The pressure was doing strange things to her body.
He lifted her to her feet, careful not to put too much pressure on her constricted breasts, and pulled her against him. Lowering his lips to her right ear, he ran his tongue along the sensitive outer spiral.
Jameela shuddered, a sudden heavy weight forming between her thighs. Her breathing was quicker, shallower.
“Now,” he whispered in her ear, “I want you to keep your eyes closed, while you undress.” He released her arms and stepped back.
Denied the strength of his strong arms, the heat of his hard body, Jameela felt bereft as he moved away from her. The clean scent of him, the warmth of his breath, combined to send pulsations of desire rippling through her body. The heaviness between her legs increased.
“Take off your gown, Wench,” he commanded in a husky voice.
Jameela crossed her hands and gripped the sides of her muslin shift. With one quick motion she pulled it over her head, feeling a cool draft play over her flesh. She stood with the shift clutched in one hand, her last bastion of safety until Dagan plucked it from her grip.
“Imagine the rain falling upon you,” he said and beneath her closed eyelids, Jameela sensed a burst of light as lightning speared the heavens. A moment later, thunder rolled as she experienced the make-believe cascade of rain sliding down her naked body.
“The rain is gentle. It is soft against your skin. It is warm and wet.”
She could feel the rain upon her and smiled.
“There is a single drop falling slowly down your left shoulder and onto your nipple,” he whispered. “I want you to take your middle finger and follow that drop as it falls.”
When she touched the sensitive flesh of her nipple, Jameela groaned.
“Circle that aching bud with you fingertip,” he coaxed. “No, go slowly, Wench. Very, very slowly.”
Sensations like electrical shocks were traveling down Jameela’s ribcage and through the lower part of her belly. Her breathing had become more erratic; tiny dots of sweat had formed on her upper lip.
“Now,” he whispered, his mouth against her ear. “Flick the tip of your fingernail across the nipple, back and forth.”
“Oh!” she gasped, the feeling one of pure intensity as she felt a wetness oozing from her core.
“Another raindrop is making its way down your right breast. Take your other hand and followed it to the nipple.”
Jameela’s head fell back against Dagan’s belly as she obeyed his directions. His hands went to her head, his fingers threading through her thick hair.
“Remove your left hand and place it palm up in your lap.”
She moaned, not wanting to escape the dual pleasure invading her chest but she did as she was told, laying her hand on the juncture of her thighs, feeling the wiry crispness of her nether curls along the base of her palm.
“Now, listen very carefully and do exactly as I say,” he ordered. His lips were hot against her ear and his warm breath sent shivers down her spine. “Take your right hand and move it to your left breast. I want you to use the nails of your thumb and middle finger to pluck gently
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