I leaned forward to kiss Svitlana again, using the touching of tongues as an excuse to take my fingers from her mouth. I put my rescued hand high on her left thigh, just before that little indentation at the top of her thighs.

Revision: Light shining through that gap at the top of the thighs, the inter-gracile sub-pudendal fossa. Which we at this blog are fond of.

This gap, as you know, is the inter-gracile sub-pudendal fossa. 

Resting my hand just below her inter-gracile sub-pudendal fossa meant that my thumb was about four centimetres from her cunt. Svitlana expected good, syrupy stroking to come, and she stretched under me. Luxuriously. She wiggled her bottom on the sheets, finding herself a comfortable position, legs relaxed and open, and put her hand on the back of my neck.

I said, “You happy?” 

“Mm hmm.” It wasn’t so much the sound as the smile. She was the cat about to start on the cream.

“Good. I just have to tell you a couple of things. You have to listen.”

Svitlana pulled a mock-serious face. She wasn’t taking me seriously any more. That didn’t matter; she would

“Ok, you want me to show you what ‘make me’ means. That’s good, because that’s going to be fucking hot. The first thing you need to know is that you don’t choose what happens any more. It’s like a roller coaster ride. You choose to get on it, but once you’re on you don’t get to pick whether you splash into the water or go round the loop. It just happens to you, ready or not. That’s what’s makes it exciting. Yes?”

She nodded, still pulling her frowning clown face. So I moved my hand those few centimetres upwards and took her labia between my thumb and forefinger. I squeezed slowly, watching her eyes as my grip tightened and her sensation changed from pure pleasure to a mix of pleasure and pain.

She gasped suddenly, when the grip was almost as hard as I could make it, and she arched her back and let her head fall back, so that she offered her breasts and throat to the man who hurt her.