I was really enjoying myself. I gave his inner thigh a couple of playful slaps with the crop, watching his body convulse each time, as if the crop wer... electrically charged. Slowly, slowly the crop slid up towards his crotch. I pressed it against his balls, dangling there, unprotected. I could see him trying, perhaps instinctively, to close his legs, but my knots were firm. He wasn’t going anywhere. I gave his dangling balls a gently tap; Graham’s eyes went wide and I heard him groan, his cock. And he had built me up to an orgasm, only to deny me the release.He hasn't called me. Texted me. Or even emailed me. Nothing.I ache all the time now. It's at the bottom of my stomach. It's a small, dull throb that just won't go away. My breasts are sensitive, my clothes always feel too tight. I want to touch myself, caress my nipples, slide my fingertips down, massage and soothe....I'm always wet.At night, I slide the ballgag into my mouth. I moan. I beg as I cup myself. Begging for. More

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