One of my big ostrich feathers was, no doubt, too tempting to him to use as a “torture” tool. Shivering, I moan and squirm as I feel the gentle st...oke all around my breasts – then tickling my nose…. “Hey,” I protest, “that’s not fair, I can’t scratch my nose.” I feel him bend over me and kiss my lips, then the tip of my nose, before he goes away again. “Mmmmmm, oh that feels wonderful,” as I feel the feather stroking my inner thighs; and it feels oh, so very erotic brushing over my pussy. When he looks at me like this, I have a quiet certainty that every other pair of eyes I’ve ever looked into have been veiled in some way. But not his. When he looks at me, there’s nothing separating us. Even though everything is unspoken, there are no veils between us. Silence fills the room, except for the sound of us breathing and the sound of my pulse racing through my veins.“Yeah,” he says finally, no more than a whisper, “I’m afraid.”His honesty unmans me, clenches my guts and leaves me. More

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