Isabelle applied her knife to the cottony fabric of his briefs. Alternately slicing and ripping, she pulled the tatters apart, exposing his rigid cock, which strained toward her like a homing beacon.

Inspired, she hopped off his knees and bent over in front of him.

His gasp was audible even through his gag.

She grinned. God, I love being in control.

Sweat broke out across Grant's brow, and he trembled. When his shaft had sprung forth from the remains of his briefs like a jack in the box-surprise!-he'd known fear. Yet even in the midst of it, he couldn’t help being aroused. She tortured him and, like a sadist, he lapped it up and yearned for more.

He’d hoped that once she'd bared his flesh, the teasing would stop and the fun would truly begin. He’d seen the way she eyed his penis like it was the sweetest treat in the bakery. But instead, she’d bent over and continued the torment. He’d reached the point where he couldn’t decide which would feel better-more slow erotic torture that threatened to make him come, or finally plunging his cock deep inside her. Either way, his body screamed for release.

The gag in his mouth prevented speech but couldn’t stop the moan he uttered. With her legs spread and her rounded bottom in the air, he had a perfect view of her sex. And not just that wet heaven, but what her fingers were now doing to it.

She spread her slick folds beneath his avid gaze before sliding first one, then two, and later three fingers inside herself. Not only that, but she’d backed up close enough to him that his cock head brushed her fingers as they pumped in and out, each gentle stroke over his sensitized skin making him tremble.

Grant groaned behind the gag and, to his secret surprise, found the feel of it in his mouth titillating. As if this sound were a signal, Isabelle slid her fingers out of her body's wet recess and ran the damp digits up and down the length of his cock. Then she grasped him firmly at the base and used him like an erotic toy, rubbing his swollen tip against her clit.