"Did you spill something on the chair?" The question caught me off guard. "What?" "Did you spill something on the chair?" John asked again. "No, I don...t even have anything to drink," I replied without thinking. With that, John touched the seat of the chair I had been sitting in with his index finger, and rubbed the wet spot, looking up at me with lust in his eyes. He put his finger in front of his face, and smelled it, as if he was smelling a dozen fresh picked roses. "Mmmmmmmm...." I must have. I chose not to be done yet.I eased my pace and adjusted the ‘scissors’ position slightly, so she would not get stiff. Now that she knew what could be coming she was re-energized. It took another twenty minutes for to work her up another climax. It was hard work, I was covered with sweat. She had trouble breathing. By that time the pain was starting to cut through her arms and shoulders, she started to really strain. Still, the quest for pleasure in the passion, pleasure that was out there but. More

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