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I moan out my frustration and delight.
His fingers rub deep inside of me, seeming to know every inch, every nerve.
His tongue perfectly matches their movements.
I feel myself getting close, my body tensing as I approach my orgasm, my pussy tightening around his thrusting fingers.
I pull my other hand free from the chair, momentarily unconcerned with the movement.
It tangles in his hair with the first, tugging frantically.
He redoubles his efforts, fingers driving deep into me, tongue flicking across me like lightning.
I scream as I come, pulling his face harder against me.
Waves of ecstasy rush though every inch of my body.
I feel my muscles spasming, my heart racing.
It seems to last for ages.
Every time I think it’s reached its peak, it only intensifies. My moans echo off the walls of the room, startling even me with their power.
By the time it passes, I find myself gasping for air.
Lock takes his time in stopping, his fingers thrusting for a moment more.
His tongue sliding over me like he’s hesitant to stop.
The pain in my shoulder re-solidifies, real again, now that it’s alone.
Tap tap tap.
The rod digs into me.
I could care less.
I feel a level of drunk that not even the tequila can account for, my pleasure still radiating through me.
All I can do is stare at him. Needing him even more now that I’ve come.
A million images flash through my mind. A million things that I want to do to him.
It’s all I can do to remain in my seat.
It’s only moments before the rod stills behind me, going quiet after one final tap.
I turn to the monk, inclining my head in question.
He nods, looking from me to Lock.
“My turn?” Lock asks, and I’m not sure which of us he’s speaking to.
The monk answers from behind me, Thai words spilling from his mouth. I look questioningly at him.
“He says that this tattoo comes with obligations.” Lock says.
“Obligations?”
