"Hey my hot sweeper." To greet me, I pulled Mone, my wife, up to me and pressed my hand onto her bottom. “As crisp as on the first day!” We huddled together and enjoyed the entertaining moment. "You're such a charmer! I hope I'm the only one who can enjoy your compliments? ”“ Of course! ”We have been a couple for a long time and tried to keep our relationship fresh and lively despite the dreariness of everyday life. We did this quite well.
At the beginning of our relationship, the storm of passion had emaciated us in the truest sense of the word. We talked about our secret desires and longings and had to find amusingly that we were driven by the same curiosity and the pleasure of living out often overwhelmed us.
We had sex in public; at the lake, in the park, in the car, in the cinema and in changing rooms. Mone went out now and then without underwear. She knew that was what turned me on. In a fine restaurant with floor-length tablecloths I crawled under the table and spoiled her with lips, tongue and teeth to the climax. She enjoyed my greed when she casually mentioned this fact of nudity.
Another time we were in a packed pizzeria. Mone secretly opened the zipper of my pants and took out my best piece, which had been locked up until then. It hardened quickly in her hand and she massaged and kneaded it under the table until I exploded.
At home, too, we lived out our passions in different role-plays of all stripes. The massive bedposts of the wide double bed were made to tie each other with widely spread arms and legs. The charm of being at the mercy and the defenselessness turned us on mutually.
Role play has become an integral part of our love life.
"I was wondering!" Mone's glittering eyes told me the direction of her thoughts. I looked ignorant. “What do you mean?” “Guess what!” “You want a child?” I widened my eyes playfully. “No!” “You want to get a divorce?” “Oh Bernd, you are a fool!” Mone wandered up the inside of my leg with her toes. "What a lot more exciting," she whispered to me. "Now I know it. You want more pocket money? "Mone threw himself on me and whispered in my ear:" A burglary! "" A burglary! We were broken into? ”“ Bernd! ”Snapped Mone. “It can't be that difficult. I want you to play a burglar, surprise and nibble at me in the apartment! ”“ I'm not breaking into our own apartment! ”I played indignantly. Mone looked puzzled at first,
Mone is looking forward to the early evening. Today was THE day. Bernd would play the burglar and then ... She had previously tried to ask him what he had been thinking about and how he was going to carry out the 'break-in'. Bernd just grinned at her and said: “Let yourself be surprised!”
Mone notices that a certain anticipation is growing in her. She chases through the apartment in a lively mood, opens the balcony door, just wearing a short nightgown enjoys the warm air flowing in, does the tiresome housework, and thinks about what to eat afterwards. It's good that she is on vacation and can get in the mood for tonight. Time seems to stand still. Not until noon. "Oh man, 5 more hours", it shoots through her head.
"Ah, that's good!" Mone slides into the foam-covered hot bath water. She leans back, relaxed. When will Bernd surprise me? What will he do? Does he tear my clothes off? Will he be really wild? Question after question flashes through her head. Mone notices how her nipples rise steeply. Your head cinema produces more and more awesome pictures. The heat that spreads inside her does not only come from the hot water. She closes her eyes and enjoys the pictures in her head and the rising lust. Your hands wander to your breasts as if by themselves, massaging the blissful hills with relish. Her hard nipples dig into the palms of her hands. Her fingers automatically twirl the nipples. It seems as if they are still growing, filling with blood almost painfully. Mone can't suppress a groan. The first electric shocks run through every fiber of your body. Your knowledgeable fingers slide further down and gently touch the already swollen labia. "No", it shoots through her head, "I'll save the horniness for later!"
Mone look at himself in front of the full-length mirror. It turns coquettishly on its own axis. Yes, she has a hot figure. It happens more often that men turn around or even whistle after her. She creams every inch of her body with pleasure. Bernd will be happy. She has just shaved and left only a small elongated rectangle of pubic hair. That's what he stands for. That makes him horny. She grins to herself mischievously. Now the lingerie he gave her. The string hugs like a second skin, only covers the bare essentials. Bernd knows what she likes and has already given her many fine items of laundry. The bra fits like a glove. Again she turns in front of the mirror. "Oh yes, you look sharp," she whispers sensually to her reflection in the mirror. "The burglar can come!"
"Mmh, two more hours!" The tingling of anticipation increases immensely. “Will he still be announced? I shorten the miserable waiting with a little champagne. “Mone goes towards the kitchen. There was something! What was that rustling? Mone is electrified towards the balcony door. Suddenly a hand comes to her mouth, pulls her away from the door. Someone is clutching her from behind. A voice alienated to her hisses in her ear: "One tone from you and you will regret it!" Mone was shocked. Thoughts whirl around. “It's way too early. But it can only be Bernd. ”The adrenaline rush made her hair straighten up, her breathing intermittently. She tastes leather. Leather? Only now does she notice that the hand is in a black leather glove. "Bernd?" Mone tries to stammer. "Shut your mouth!", the voice commands her. The glass on the balcony door reflects the situation. Behind her stands a person dressed all in black. In terms of size and stature, it could be Bernd. He has put on a red balaclava and is wearing gloves. "Of course that's Bernd, who else", it shoots through her head. “How noticeable. A red balaclava ”, she grins to herself. But this voice. This voice sounds strange, distorted by the balaclava. The seed of doubt takes hold. she grins to herself. But this voice. This voice sounds strange, distorted by the balaclava. The seed of doubt takes hold. she grins to herself. But this voice. This voice sounds strange, distorted by the balaclava. The seed of doubt takes hold.
"If you don't make any complaints, nothing will happen to you! Do you understand that? “, The voice penetrates into her over-arching world of thoughts. Mone nods his head politely. "I don't want to make it too difficult for the burglar the first time," she smugly thinks. "But what is ......" Mone shudders and does not end this thought. "If you scream, you will regret it!" To support this, the hand presses harder on her mouth. After a few seconds, the hand releases from her mouth and covers her eyes. "Quiet," he hisses in his ear. "We don't want you to be able to tell the cops how I look!" The sudden darkness causes a brief surge of fear. Mone holds his breath. It rustles. The hand comes away from the eyes. Before Mone can blink she feels a substance that covers her eyes. "Oh how I love that. Bernd knows how to make me hot ”. But this thought doesn't last long. The seed of doubt grows. “What if it's not Bernd?” Your breathing is faster again, plus this darkness now. "Bernd?" A hand goes around her neck and squeezes lightly. “I said: Shut up! One more time and you'll be sorry! ”Hissed that distorted voice again.
“Where's the coal?” “We have nothing ...” “Oh! We! So Bernd is your engraver! Your Bernd has taste. I'll take care of that. So where's the money? ”“ We have ... ”Mone can't finish the sentence. Again the hand goes around her neck and squeezes lightly. “Don't lie to me!” Mone instinctively grabs the hand. The pressure increases. "Hands off, otherwise you will be killed!" Mone plays along and lets his hands drop. “I didn't even know that Bernd could play a burglar so realistically! How are burglars actually? ”The thoughts chase through Mone's head. “I won't ask again. Where's the coal? ”“ In the kitchen in the red coffee can! ”“ Well, you can! ”Mone is pushed into the kitchen. “It's Bernd. How else should he know straight away where the kitchen is? You stupid, because the kitchen door opens and everyone can see immediately where the kitchen is! ”, their thoughts argue. The hand comes off her neck.
“Stand there and don't move!” This voice hisses in her ear again. Mone's bursts of excitement and fear change constantly. On the one hand, it turns them on because it's Bernd who plays this game. On the other hand, the fear spills up again and again that it might be a real burglar after all and ..... She hears the rattling of cupboard doors, the pulling out of drawers, the opening of cans and glasses. "Hm, the monthly household budget seems to have just been filled. It was worth it! “, It comes to Mone's ear.
Silence. No more noise! Mone is getting restless. She turns her head tense to the right and left. Nothing! Simply nothing to hear! Mone reaches for the cloth that covers her eyes. "Hands off," suddenly and unexpectedly hisses this distorted voice right next to her ear. He must have stepped behind her silently and unnoticed. Mone flinches. She did not expect that. Mone feels his body as he hugs her from behind. His hands are on her breasts. Mone draws in a sharp breath and is confused when he realizes that the fear that has just budged is more of a stimulus intensifier than an obstacle. Their nipples stand up and press against the intruder's palms. Mone feels the fabric of the balaclava on her cheek, hears the quickening breath from him, the hands that knead her breasts harder, his cock unabashedly rubbing against her buttocks. Mone can't suppress a groan. Suddenly he breaks away from her. She stands there alone, unsteady. Again this silence for a few seconds. "Put your dress off!" He suddenly shouts at her. This time he seems to be standing in front of her. “Your Bernd is to be envied. You are really a hot bride! Come on, get rid of the rag! ”Again Mone is irritated. The conflicting thoughts race around unanswered. “It's Bernd! Secure?" “Your Bernd is to be envied. You are really a hot bride! Come on, get rid of the rag! ”Again Mone is irritated. The conflicting thoughts race around unanswered. “It's Bernd! Secure?" “Your Bernd is to be envied. You are really a hot bride! Come on, get rid of the rag! ”Again Mone is irritated. The conflicting thoughts race around unanswered. “It's Bernd! Secure?"
"And if not" "Oh, the lady makes you hard. Do you really want to know? ”The subtle threat makes Mone unsure. “What if it's not Bernd? Then ... “A metallic noise makes Mone flinch. What was that? Something cold, pointed like a needle, touches her throat. She shrinks back. “You really want the hard way lady? That cold, sharp thing wanders down her neck, between her breasts. The resulting trace leaves a slight scratch. "Oh no. It has to be a knife, ”it shoots through her head. "Bernd would never. But on the other hand he knows that she likes being at the mercy now and then ..." Take off your dress! Immediately! Otherwise ...? ”The pressure of this cold tip increases. Mone slips the straps over his shoulder. The dress follows gravity and falls to the ground. She hears an appreciative whistle. “You're hotter than I thought! A real feast for the eyes. Come on, turn! ”Mone turns slowly around its own axis as ordered. "Put your hands on your head and don't move any more," he says at her. Mone obeys. "That's good. I know what you're into! ”“ Now he's given himself away! Bernd you scoundrel, I'll pay you back, "grins Mone to himself," to make me feel insecure! "
The tip of the knife slides over the base of the breast to the bra. Mone flinches. "Don't move, otherwise ...", he rules at her again. The blade moves between the cups. Mone feels how the tip presses under the fabric between the cups and is pulled forward. "It won't ..." With a ratchet, the bra loses its natural tension and the cups hang down. "He has ..." Again Mone feels the blade on her chest. The scratching wanders towards the forecourt and the steeply erect nipples. When the cold steel touches the nipple, Mone reflexively pulls in her stomach. Your panting seems to make him bolder. The blade circles the hard nipple. Mone groans. Her pent-up lust comes to the surface. Your breathing is intermittent. Beads of sweat form on your skin. The blood rushes in her ears. Mone feels how the freshly shaved labia fill with blood, the first drops soak the string.
Suddenly she no longer feels the blade. That unsettling silence again. Breathing heavily, she listens into the room. "You are a horny bitch!" This time the voice comes from the side. “Bernd can consider himself lucky! Let's see what else I can bring to light! ”Again this doubt, which Mone wants to make itself felt, but does not come about because there is the tip of the blade again. This time she scratches her stomach and walks down the valley. At the edge of the string, the blade moves horizontally to the hip. Mone's breathing speeds up again. She feels how the knife edge slides under the ribbon on the hip and is pulled under tension. That advice again. The ribbon has lost its function and the string falls to the floor. Mone is now standing in the kitchen, breathing heavily, naked as God created her.
"Wow!" Mone only hears this one word. Wow! Not more. His heavy breathing tells her that he has to stand in front of her again. Hands, hands in leather gloves, lie on her trembling breasts. Mone can smell the leather. That also turns them on. The hands massage her breasts, at the same time approaching the nipples, twirling, pressing, pulling. Mone squirms, her panting grows louder and harder. The excitement curve shoots up like a superlative lift. He lets go of her nipples, spans her breasts with a strong grip. Mone suddenly feels a tongue on the nipples, which are tense to bursting. The same procedure; only this time with the tongue, lips and teeth. Mone can't help but groan her excitement, no, to vent with sharp screams. The nibbling on her nipples with her teeth almost drives her insane, drives her to the edge of the climax approaching me at the speed of light. The beads of sweat are now running downhill, pearl by pearl unite to form a small trickle, which leaves a wet trail between her breasts towards the navel.
"Oh, that turns you on," it penetrates through the smoke screen of intoxication to her consciousness switched to sex. "Oh yes," moans Mone. She can no longer feel the tongue, lips and teeth that are driving her to the height of pleasure. She didn't even notice that he was letting go of her. Immediately a void spreads within her, crying out for repetition, further touch and more. "What's your name, you symbol of lust"? Irritated, she does not understand the meaning of the question. “Bernd knows my name!” A voluptuous pain suddenly spreads in waves. She knows the short pain that makes you horny from some games. Your hard nipple will be squeezed hard. Mone flinches and groans. "What's your name?", This distorted voice penetrates her consciousness again, this time more demanding. Lust and fear, the conflicting feelings, which change every second, confuse Mone more and more. The pressure on the nipple increases. "Mone. Mone, ”she gasps. "Well-behaved. So mone. Beautiful name. Fits you and your hot body. We still have time before your Bernd comes home and ...! "
The pain in the nipple disappears and sends out lust instead. Hot waves of pleasure chase through Mones body, for a moment suppress the re-emerging fear. Mone again feels the hand in the glove that wraps around her neck and pushes her backwards. "What? ..." The pressure increases. Mone gasps. "Pssst, be nice!" Your buttocks bump against the edge of the table. The pressure on the neck eases. “Put your hands down and support yourself on the table! You know, if you are dear and do what I tell you, it is only half as bad! ", This distorted voice penetrates her ear. The fear gnaws more at the certainty 'Bernd' again. The supposed certainty? "
Mone supports himself on his back on the edge of the table. She does not know whether her wheezing, the rising and falling breasts is more from lust for sex or the ever-growing fear. That silence again. “What kind of clack is that? I know this sound! Damn it! ”Mone's thoughts are suddenly interrupted. Suddenly she feels a finger, a finger in a leather glove, which unabashedly, no demanding, touches her navel and slides down the valley. Mone reflexively pulls in his stomach. She feels the finger on her plump labia as it naturally plunges into her wet love cave and at the same time hears a hissing sound. Your senses cause capers. Pure confusion! Something sticky, cold slaps her nipples. Cold? No ice cold! Now the thought that has just been lost comes back to the surface. "Clack. Hiss. Sticky. Cold. Yes, it is a spray can. Spray cream! ”Her thoughts get no further. The cold on her nipples, the heat caused by the fingers moving inside her, overwhelms her. Mone shrugs ecstatically and gasps out her pent-up lust. Waves of cold and heat, natural opposites, break in over them. Again she is driven to the edge of the climax approaching at the speed of light.
Just let the waves go. The finger has disappeared. Again this emptiness that is now crying louder and louder for satisfaction. Panting, Mone sloshes back to the surface of consciousness. “Tztz, not so fast, you horny greedy bitch. Your Bernd should probably pick you up more often. Well, I'm here now! ”Mone just regained consciousness and feels this warm tongue, which licks the cream from her breasts with relish and deals with the permanently hard nipples. Reality is slowly disappearing again into the fog of lust. This interplay of the senses robs Mone of her mind. She can no longer have a clear thought. There is something good about it. The fear that keeps growing again no longer penetrates into their consciousness.
The hand in the leather glove pushes her relentlessly backwards. She feels her back resting on the cold looking table. Mone felt that emptiness again. The greed of the instant desire for satisfaction is almost painful. There, that clacking again. Mone's breath unconsciously accelerates. This time she hits the cold cream on her swollen labia. It seems as if the cream penetrates into her glowing gem. Mone gasps for air, moans, writhes. Shivers of lust chase through her body. Again she feels her tongue as she licks the cream from her labia with slow tongue strokes. When the tongue reaches her clit, Mone lets out a sharp scream. She pushes her back and her shame against the tongue. But the tongue is gone. Again this unfilledness, this emptiness.
Mone hears another noise that cannot be assigned immediately. Your legs will be raised. She feels how her lower legs are pulled over her upper arms to the shoulder. He now appears to be right in front of and between her raised legs. The excitation curve of Mone involuntarily shoots upwards. "Yeah," she groans when she feels the plump glans on her labia. Since she has not been able to see anything the whole time, her other senses have intensified. The hard tail takes possession of her, inch by inch. Continually shoves deeper and deeper into her pussy. She thinks she can feel the thick veins on the shaft. She tries to remember what Bernd's cock feels like. She doesn't succeed. The slow movements get faster, harder. She takes every thrust in herself with lust. "Come on, massage your tits! “, It penetrates her ear. He didn't have to tell her that. Her hands were already twirling the nipples. She can no longer bear the agony of dissatisfaction. She doesn't want to feel this painful emptiness again shortly before that. Again she is driven to the edge of the climax approaching at the speed of light. This time she wants to be drawn over the edge and into the vortex of liberating lust. This repeatedly delayed satisfaction, the conflicting feelings of certainty and fear, this hot cock burrowing inside her, her fingers maltreating her nipples, this is all too much. The orgasm discharges in seemingly never-ending flashes of light, twitches, contractions. Mone sees, feels colored electric shocks, that chase through their bodies and apparently randomly emerge from every fiber somewhere. The vortex pulls you deeper and deeper and lets you float on a level that has separated itself from consciousness. Somewhere, far away in the mist of lust, she can feel the hot juice from him on her stomach and breasts******* . She didn't notice how he pulled his cock out of her hot overflowing pussy.
After half an eternity, it seems to her in any case, her consciousness switches on again, brings her back to reality. That sound again. Now she knows. It's a zipper! “Among the living again? You are pure lust. Bernd is really lucky. If you're fed up with him, let me know! You should wash yourself, otherwise he might get the idea that you are screwing around with another guy. Your hot body is full of cream and ..... “Mone shudders. Isn't it Bernd? That can not be true! The most violent orgasm in human memory and now this uncertainty again. Suddenly she is pulled forward. She can feel the gloves on her wrists. Mone gets to her feet, wobbles a little because she is exhausted, but she stands. That distorted voice again. He seems to be behind her. "You are the hottest thing I've ever come across," this voice whispers in her ear. The balaclava tickles her ear. “I'm in the area a lot. Should your patio door open, I'll be happy to come back to you. So now I have to be on my way before your Bernd shows up. Mone feels how the leather glove presses on her buttock and squeezes. Just this touch gives her goose bumps again. now I have to be on my way before your Bernd shows up. Mone feels how the leather glove presses on her buttock and squeezes. Just this touch gives her goose bumps again. now I have to be on my way before your Bernd shows up. Mone feels how the leather glove presses on her buttock and squeezes. Just this touch gives her goose bumps again.
Silence! Mone only waits a very short time and then tears the fabric from his eyes. The bright light makes her blink. He is gone! Your mind wanders. Was that Bernd? Was it someone else? No, she doesn't want to think about that, but the germ of doubt won't leave her in peace. She looks down at herself. He's right. Your body shows traces of cream and its hot juice. It drips from her still hard nipples. She quickly jumps into the shower. Damn the phone! She quickly slips into a bath towel. "Hey my hot sweeper. Sorry. Unfortunately, I had to work an overtime. I'll be with you in a moment. I just need a few more things, then I'll leave for a moment and then .... See you soon! ”Mone looks at the receiver, irritated. She couldn't even answer. Doubt grows. Only a few seconds later, Mone hears the key turning in the lock. “Sweetie, where are you?” She hears Bernd's familiar voice. “Oh, only in the bath towel. So should I attack you right away? ”Bernd approaches Mone and presses a kiss on her forehead. Mone's doubts skyrocketed. Your knees go weak. Bernd turns around, a red balaclava peeks out of his jacket pocket. Mone sees the piece of cloth, but only needs a few seconds to ... "Bernd you scoundrel!"
At the beginning of our relationship, the storm of passion had emaciated us in the truest sense of the word. We talked about our secret desires and longings and had to find amusingly that we were driven by the same curiosity and the pleasure of living out often overwhelmed us.
We had sex in public; at the lake, in the park, in the car, in the cinema and in changing rooms. Mone went out now and then without underwear. She knew that was what turned me on. In a fine restaurant with floor-length tablecloths I crawled under the table and spoiled her with lips, tongue and teeth to the climax. She enjoyed my greed when she casually mentioned this fact of nudity.
Another time we were in a packed pizzeria. Mone secretly opened the zipper of my pants and took out my best piece, which had been locked up until then. It hardened quickly in her hand and she massaged and kneaded it under the table until I exploded.
At home, too, we lived out our passions in different role-plays of all stripes. The massive bedposts of the wide double bed were made to tie each other with widely spread arms and legs. The charm of being at the mercy and the defenselessness turned us on mutually.
Role play has become an integral part of our love life.
"I was wondering!" Mone's glittering eyes told me the direction of her thoughts. I looked ignorant. “What do you mean?” “Guess what!” “You want a child?” I widened my eyes playfully. “No!” “You want to get a divorce?” “Oh Bernd, you are a fool!” Mone wandered up the inside of my leg with her toes. "What a lot more exciting," she whispered to me. "Now I know it. You want more pocket money? "Mone threw himself on me and whispered in my ear:" A burglary! "" A burglary! We were broken into? ”“ Bernd! ”Snapped Mone. “It can't be that difficult. I want you to play a burglar, surprise and nibble at me in the apartment! ”“ I'm not breaking into our own apartment! ”I played indignantly. Mone looked puzzled at first,
Mone is looking forward to the early evening. Today was THE day. Bernd would play the burglar and then ... She had previously tried to ask him what he had been thinking about and how he was going to carry out the 'break-in'. Bernd just grinned at her and said: “Let yourself be surprised!”
Mone notices that a certain anticipation is growing in her. She chases through the apartment in a lively mood, opens the balcony door, just wearing a short nightgown enjoys the warm air flowing in, does the tiresome housework, and thinks about what to eat afterwards. It's good that she is on vacation and can get in the mood for tonight. Time seems to stand still. Not until noon. "Oh man, 5 more hours", it shoots through her head.
"Ah, that's good!" Mone slides into the foam-covered hot bath water. She leans back, relaxed. When will Bernd surprise me? What will he do? Does he tear my clothes off? Will he be really wild? Question after question flashes through her head. Mone notices how her nipples rise steeply. Your head cinema produces more and more awesome pictures. The heat that spreads inside her does not only come from the hot water. She closes her eyes and enjoys the pictures in her head and the rising lust. Your hands wander to your breasts as if by themselves, massaging the blissful hills with relish. Her hard nipples dig into the palms of her hands. Her fingers automatically twirl the nipples. It seems as if they are still growing, filling with blood almost painfully. Mone can't suppress a groan. The first electric shocks run through every fiber of your body. Your knowledgeable fingers slide further down and gently touch the already swollen labia. "No", it shoots through her head, "I'll save the horniness for later!"
Mone look at himself in front of the full-length mirror. It turns coquettishly on its own axis. Yes, she has a hot figure. It happens more often that men turn around or even whistle after her. She creams every inch of her body with pleasure. Bernd will be happy. She has just shaved and left only a small elongated rectangle of pubic hair. That's what he stands for. That makes him horny. She grins to herself mischievously. Now the lingerie he gave her. The string hugs like a second skin, only covers the bare essentials. Bernd knows what she likes and has already given her many fine items of laundry. The bra fits like a glove. Again she turns in front of the mirror. "Oh yes, you look sharp," she whispers sensually to her reflection in the mirror. "The burglar can come!"
"Mmh, two more hours!" The tingling of anticipation increases immensely. “Will he still be announced? I shorten the miserable waiting with a little champagne. “Mone goes towards the kitchen. There was something! What was that rustling? Mone is electrified towards the balcony door. Suddenly a hand comes to her mouth, pulls her away from the door. Someone is clutching her from behind. A voice alienated to her hisses in her ear: "One tone from you and you will regret it!" Mone was shocked. Thoughts whirl around. “It's way too early. But it can only be Bernd. ”The adrenaline rush made her hair straighten up, her breathing intermittently. She tastes leather. Leather? Only now does she notice that the hand is in a black leather glove. "Bernd?" Mone tries to stammer. "Shut your mouth!", the voice commands her. The glass on the balcony door reflects the situation. Behind her stands a person dressed all in black. In terms of size and stature, it could be Bernd. He has put on a red balaclava and is wearing gloves. "Of course that's Bernd, who else", it shoots through her head. “How noticeable. A red balaclava ”, she grins to herself. But this voice. This voice sounds strange, distorted by the balaclava. The seed of doubt takes hold. she grins to herself. But this voice. This voice sounds strange, distorted by the balaclava. The seed of doubt takes hold. she grins to herself. But this voice. This voice sounds strange, distorted by the balaclava. The seed of doubt takes hold.
"If you don't make any complaints, nothing will happen to you! Do you understand that? “, The voice penetrates into her over-arching world of thoughts. Mone nods his head politely. "I don't want to make it too difficult for the burglar the first time," she smugly thinks. "But what is ......" Mone shudders and does not end this thought. "If you scream, you will regret it!" To support this, the hand presses harder on her mouth. After a few seconds, the hand releases from her mouth and covers her eyes. "Quiet," he hisses in his ear. "We don't want you to be able to tell the cops how I look!" The sudden darkness causes a brief surge of fear. Mone holds his breath. It rustles. The hand comes away from the eyes. Before Mone can blink she feels a substance that covers her eyes. "Oh how I love that. Bernd knows how to make me hot ”. But this thought doesn't last long. The seed of doubt grows. “What if it's not Bernd?” Your breathing is faster again, plus this darkness now. "Bernd?" A hand goes around her neck and squeezes lightly. “I said: Shut up! One more time and you'll be sorry! ”Hissed that distorted voice again.
“Where's the coal?” “We have nothing ...” “Oh! We! So Bernd is your engraver! Your Bernd has taste. I'll take care of that. So where's the money? ”“ We have ... ”Mone can't finish the sentence. Again the hand goes around her neck and squeezes lightly. “Don't lie to me!” Mone instinctively grabs the hand. The pressure increases. "Hands off, otherwise you will be killed!" Mone plays along and lets his hands drop. “I didn't even know that Bernd could play a burglar so realistically! How are burglars actually? ”The thoughts chase through Mone's head. “I won't ask again. Where's the coal? ”“ In the kitchen in the red coffee can! ”“ Well, you can! ”Mone is pushed into the kitchen. “It's Bernd. How else should he know straight away where the kitchen is? You stupid, because the kitchen door opens and everyone can see immediately where the kitchen is! ”, their thoughts argue. The hand comes off her neck.
“Stand there and don't move!” This voice hisses in her ear again. Mone's bursts of excitement and fear change constantly. On the one hand, it turns them on because it's Bernd who plays this game. On the other hand, the fear spills up again and again that it might be a real burglar after all and ..... She hears the rattling of cupboard doors, the pulling out of drawers, the opening of cans and glasses. "Hm, the monthly household budget seems to have just been filled. It was worth it! “, It comes to Mone's ear.
Silence. No more noise! Mone is getting restless. She turns her head tense to the right and left. Nothing! Simply nothing to hear! Mone reaches for the cloth that covers her eyes. "Hands off," suddenly and unexpectedly hisses this distorted voice right next to her ear. He must have stepped behind her silently and unnoticed. Mone flinches. She did not expect that. Mone feels his body as he hugs her from behind. His hands are on her breasts. Mone draws in a sharp breath and is confused when he realizes that the fear that has just budged is more of a stimulus intensifier than an obstacle. Their nipples stand up and press against the intruder's palms. Mone feels the fabric of the balaclava on her cheek, hears the quickening breath from him, the hands that knead her breasts harder, his cock unabashedly rubbing against her buttocks. Mone can't suppress a groan. Suddenly he breaks away from her. She stands there alone, unsteady. Again this silence for a few seconds. "Put your dress off!" He suddenly shouts at her. This time he seems to be standing in front of her. “Your Bernd is to be envied. You are really a hot bride! Come on, get rid of the rag! ”Again Mone is irritated. The conflicting thoughts race around unanswered. “It's Bernd! Secure?" “Your Bernd is to be envied. You are really a hot bride! Come on, get rid of the rag! ”Again Mone is irritated. The conflicting thoughts race around unanswered. “It's Bernd! Secure?" “Your Bernd is to be envied. You are really a hot bride! Come on, get rid of the rag! ”Again Mone is irritated. The conflicting thoughts race around unanswered. “It's Bernd! Secure?"
"And if not" "Oh, the lady makes you hard. Do you really want to know? ”The subtle threat makes Mone unsure. “What if it's not Bernd? Then ... “A metallic noise makes Mone flinch. What was that? Something cold, pointed like a needle, touches her throat. She shrinks back. “You really want the hard way lady? That cold, sharp thing wanders down her neck, between her breasts. The resulting trace leaves a slight scratch. "Oh no. It has to be a knife, ”it shoots through her head. "Bernd would never. But on the other hand he knows that she likes being at the mercy now and then ..." Take off your dress! Immediately! Otherwise ...? ”The pressure of this cold tip increases. Mone slips the straps over his shoulder. The dress follows gravity and falls to the ground. She hears an appreciative whistle. “You're hotter than I thought! A real feast for the eyes. Come on, turn! ”Mone turns slowly around its own axis as ordered. "Put your hands on your head and don't move any more," he says at her. Mone obeys. "That's good. I know what you're into! ”“ Now he's given himself away! Bernd you scoundrel, I'll pay you back, "grins Mone to himself," to make me feel insecure! "
The tip of the knife slides over the base of the breast to the bra. Mone flinches. "Don't move, otherwise ...", he rules at her again. The blade moves between the cups. Mone feels how the tip presses under the fabric between the cups and is pulled forward. "It won't ..." With a ratchet, the bra loses its natural tension and the cups hang down. "He has ..." Again Mone feels the blade on her chest. The scratching wanders towards the forecourt and the steeply erect nipples. When the cold steel touches the nipple, Mone reflexively pulls in her stomach. Your panting seems to make him bolder. The blade circles the hard nipple. Mone groans. Her pent-up lust comes to the surface. Your breathing is intermittent. Beads of sweat form on your skin. The blood rushes in her ears. Mone feels how the freshly shaved labia fill with blood, the first drops soak the string.
Suddenly she no longer feels the blade. That unsettling silence again. Breathing heavily, she listens into the room. "You are a horny bitch!" This time the voice comes from the side. “Bernd can consider himself lucky! Let's see what else I can bring to light! ”Again this doubt, which Mone wants to make itself felt, but does not come about because there is the tip of the blade again. This time she scratches her stomach and walks down the valley. At the edge of the string, the blade moves horizontally to the hip. Mone's breathing speeds up again. She feels how the knife edge slides under the ribbon on the hip and is pulled under tension. That advice again. The ribbon has lost its function and the string falls to the floor. Mone is now standing in the kitchen, breathing heavily, naked as God created her.
"Wow!" Mone only hears this one word. Wow! Not more. His heavy breathing tells her that he has to stand in front of her again. Hands, hands in leather gloves, lie on her trembling breasts. Mone can smell the leather. That also turns them on. The hands massage her breasts, at the same time approaching the nipples, twirling, pressing, pulling. Mone squirms, her panting grows louder and harder. The excitement curve shoots up like a superlative lift. He lets go of her nipples, spans her breasts with a strong grip. Mone suddenly feels a tongue on the nipples, which are tense to bursting. The same procedure; only this time with the tongue, lips and teeth. Mone can't help but groan her excitement, no, to vent with sharp screams. The nibbling on her nipples with her teeth almost drives her insane, drives her to the edge of the climax approaching me at the speed of light. The beads of sweat are now running downhill, pearl by pearl unite to form a small trickle, which leaves a wet trail between her breasts towards the navel.
"Oh, that turns you on," it penetrates through the smoke screen of intoxication to her consciousness switched to sex. "Oh yes," moans Mone. She can no longer feel the tongue, lips and teeth that are driving her to the height of pleasure. She didn't even notice that he was letting go of her. Immediately a void spreads within her, crying out for repetition, further touch and more. "What's your name, you symbol of lust"? Irritated, she does not understand the meaning of the question. “Bernd knows my name!” A voluptuous pain suddenly spreads in waves. She knows the short pain that makes you horny from some games. Your hard nipple will be squeezed hard. Mone flinches and groans. "What's your name?", This distorted voice penetrates her consciousness again, this time more demanding. Lust and fear, the conflicting feelings, which change every second, confuse Mone more and more. The pressure on the nipple increases. "Mone. Mone, ”she gasps. "Well-behaved. So mone. Beautiful name. Fits you and your hot body. We still have time before your Bernd comes home and ...! "
The pain in the nipple disappears and sends out lust instead. Hot waves of pleasure chase through Mones body, for a moment suppress the re-emerging fear. Mone again feels the hand in the glove that wraps around her neck and pushes her backwards. "What? ..." The pressure increases. Mone gasps. "Pssst, be nice!" Your buttocks bump against the edge of the table. The pressure on the neck eases. “Put your hands down and support yourself on the table! You know, if you are dear and do what I tell you, it is only half as bad! ", This distorted voice penetrates her ear. The fear gnaws more at the certainty 'Bernd' again. The supposed certainty? "
Mone supports himself on his back on the edge of the table. She does not know whether her wheezing, the rising and falling breasts is more from lust for sex or the ever-growing fear. That silence again. “What kind of clack is that? I know this sound! Damn it! ”Mone's thoughts are suddenly interrupted. Suddenly she feels a finger, a finger in a leather glove, which unabashedly, no demanding, touches her navel and slides down the valley. Mone reflexively pulls in his stomach. She feels the finger on her plump labia as it naturally plunges into her wet love cave and at the same time hears a hissing sound. Your senses cause capers. Pure confusion! Something sticky, cold slaps her nipples. Cold? No ice cold! Now the thought that has just been lost comes back to the surface. "Clack. Hiss. Sticky. Cold. Yes, it is a spray can. Spray cream! ”Her thoughts get no further. The cold on her nipples, the heat caused by the fingers moving inside her, overwhelms her. Mone shrugs ecstatically and gasps out her pent-up lust. Waves of cold and heat, natural opposites, break in over them. Again she is driven to the edge of the climax approaching at the speed of light.
Just let the waves go. The finger has disappeared. Again this emptiness that is now crying louder and louder for satisfaction. Panting, Mone sloshes back to the surface of consciousness. “Tztz, not so fast, you horny greedy bitch. Your Bernd should probably pick you up more often. Well, I'm here now! ”Mone just regained consciousness and feels this warm tongue, which licks the cream from her breasts with relish and deals with the permanently hard nipples. Reality is slowly disappearing again into the fog of lust. This interplay of the senses robs Mone of her mind. She can no longer have a clear thought. There is something good about it. The fear that keeps growing again no longer penetrates into their consciousness.
The hand in the leather glove pushes her relentlessly backwards. She feels her back resting on the cold looking table. Mone felt that emptiness again. The greed of the instant desire for satisfaction is almost painful. There, that clacking again. Mone's breath unconsciously accelerates. This time she hits the cold cream on her swollen labia. It seems as if the cream penetrates into her glowing gem. Mone gasps for air, moans, writhes. Shivers of lust chase through her body. Again she feels her tongue as she licks the cream from her labia with slow tongue strokes. When the tongue reaches her clit, Mone lets out a sharp scream. She pushes her back and her shame against the tongue. But the tongue is gone. Again this unfilledness, this emptiness.
Mone hears another noise that cannot be assigned immediately. Your legs will be raised. She feels how her lower legs are pulled over her upper arms to the shoulder. He now appears to be right in front of and between her raised legs. The excitation curve of Mone involuntarily shoots upwards. "Yeah," she groans when she feels the plump glans on her labia. Since she has not been able to see anything the whole time, her other senses have intensified. The hard tail takes possession of her, inch by inch. Continually shoves deeper and deeper into her pussy. She thinks she can feel the thick veins on the shaft. She tries to remember what Bernd's cock feels like. She doesn't succeed. The slow movements get faster, harder. She takes every thrust in herself with lust. "Come on, massage your tits! “, It penetrates her ear. He didn't have to tell her that. Her hands were already twirling the nipples. She can no longer bear the agony of dissatisfaction. She doesn't want to feel this painful emptiness again shortly before that. Again she is driven to the edge of the climax approaching at the speed of light. This time she wants to be drawn over the edge and into the vortex of liberating lust. This repeatedly delayed satisfaction, the conflicting feelings of certainty and fear, this hot cock burrowing inside her, her fingers maltreating her nipples, this is all too much. The orgasm discharges in seemingly never-ending flashes of light, twitches, contractions. Mone sees, feels colored electric shocks, that chase through their bodies and apparently randomly emerge from every fiber somewhere. The vortex pulls you deeper and deeper and lets you float on a level that has separated itself from consciousness. Somewhere, far away in the mist of lust, she can feel the hot juice from him on her stomach and breasts******* . She didn't notice how he pulled his cock out of her hot overflowing pussy.
After half an eternity, it seems to her in any case, her consciousness switches on again, brings her back to reality. That sound again. Now she knows. It's a zipper! “Among the living again? You are pure lust. Bernd is really lucky. If you're fed up with him, let me know! You should wash yourself, otherwise he might get the idea that you are screwing around with another guy. Your hot body is full of cream and ..... “Mone shudders. Isn't it Bernd? That can not be true! The most violent orgasm in human memory and now this uncertainty again. Suddenly she is pulled forward. She can feel the gloves on her wrists. Mone gets to her feet, wobbles a little because she is exhausted, but she stands. That distorted voice again. He seems to be behind her. "You are the hottest thing I've ever come across," this voice whispers in her ear. The balaclava tickles her ear. “I'm in the area a lot. Should your patio door open, I'll be happy to come back to you. So now I have to be on my way before your Bernd shows up. Mone feels how the leather glove presses on her buttock and squeezes. Just this touch gives her goose bumps again. now I have to be on my way before your Bernd shows up. Mone feels how the leather glove presses on her buttock and squeezes. Just this touch gives her goose bumps again. now I have to be on my way before your Bernd shows up. Mone feels how the leather glove presses on her buttock and squeezes. Just this touch gives her goose bumps again.
Silence! Mone only waits a very short time and then tears the fabric from his eyes. The bright light makes her blink. He is gone! Your mind wanders. Was that Bernd? Was it someone else? No, she doesn't want to think about that, but the germ of doubt won't leave her in peace. She looks down at herself. He's right. Your body shows traces of cream and its hot juice. It drips from her still hard nipples. She quickly jumps into the shower. Damn the phone! She quickly slips into a bath towel. "Hey my hot sweeper. Sorry. Unfortunately, I had to work an overtime. I'll be with you in a moment. I just need a few more things, then I'll leave for a moment and then .... See you soon! ”Mone looks at the receiver, irritated. She couldn't even answer. Doubt grows. Only a few seconds later, Mone hears the key turning in the lock. “Sweetie, where are you?” She hears Bernd's familiar voice. “Oh, only in the bath towel. So should I attack you right away? ”Bernd approaches Mone and presses a kiss on her forehead. Mone's doubts skyrocketed. Your knees go weak. Bernd turns around, a red balaclava peeks out of his jacket pocket. Mone sees the piece of cloth, but only needs a few seconds to ... "Bernd you scoundrel!"
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