Don't cum.Her fingers pinched harder. The rapturous pain flooded my body.I couldn't cum. I couldn't be weak.Her fingers twisted, abusing my poor clit....My pussy clenched. My hips bucked. The pleasure called to me. Sang to me. My body begged me to surrender to the sweet release of my orgasm. It was so hard to fight, to resist.But I was a servant of Saphique. My body had been trained. I could make myself cum without even touching my pussy.And I could keep myself from cumming no matter how great. With her skirt at mid thigh, he was treated to a lush view that went quite nearly to the delta of her womanhood, hidden, just out of view, in the dark beneath her skirt. Tearing his eyes away from her stocking tops, he finally arrived at her face. And saw that she knew what he'd seen.In that split second eternity, with their eyes searching one another, as he dithered wondering if the view had been an intentional invitation, and whether or not he should officially 'notice', or should politely. More

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