It was still raining steadily when I woke up alone, and a watery, gray light was
filtering in through Ruth's bedroom curtains. I heard the shower running.

"Jeez!" I thought, "I'm going to ORDER her to quit bathing without asking. Every
time she starts smelling sweaty and sexy, she takes a shower!"

At least her bed retained the powerful, musky smell of sex. I burrowed in and
dozed for awhile, until Ruth turned back the covers on one side and slipped in
next to me, delightfully nude. But she smelled like scented soap. I stretched out
and wrapped her up with my arms and legs.

"Hmmm," she murmured contentedly. "I think I've died and gone to heaven."

"Why did you take another shower?" I muttered grumpily.

"I thought you might like me clean," she said quietly.

"I DO like you clean," I insisted. "But I also like you sweaty and wet and
smelling wonderful. Next time you want to take a shower, ask me first."

I flung off the covers on my side and walked into the bathroom for a piss and a
drink of water. I quickly brushed my teeth. When I returned, Ruth was lying in
the same spot, a worried look on her face.

"You're not mad at me are you?" she asked.

I looked at her, considering.

"Maybe you could use a little discipline," I mused, "a little reminder that you
DO need to take orders." She was silent, eyes downcast.

I found a pair of scissors and a drawer full of panty hose, and in a few minutes
Ruth was tied to the bed, spread-eagled on her back. I was careful not to cut off
her circulation, but my knots were still good enough to hold her nearly
motionless. My old Boy Scout skills came in handy. I stood surveying my
handiwork, but the expression on my face must have been ambiguous.

"What are you going to do?" Ruth asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure ... but something will come to me," I said.

My eyes fell on a brandy snifter on her dresser. It held odds and ends including
a small, white feather that might have come from an old-fashioned boa. I sat on
the bed next to Ruth's motionless form and she watched me closely as I leaned
over and kissed her deeply. She sucked my tongue while it searched her warm,
hungry mouth. After awhile I sat up and slowly dragged the feather over her skin
from her wrist down the exposed underside of her arm to her armpit, under her
breast and down to her waist. She shivered and shrunk away when I hit the
"tickle" zone over her ribs.

I concentrated for awhile on her left breast, drawing the feather slowly along
the rounded underside then up between her mounds and over the top. I was pleased
to see the nipple slowly stiffen, while her areola began to contract. Ruth closed
her eyes and turned her head away, breathing deeply. I drew the feather slowly,
right over the nipple, and Ruth stretched, arching her back to thrust upward. I
drew the feather back over her nipple the other direction and she sighed.

For five minutes or more I worked on Ruth's breast with the feather, until her
nipple and areola were engorged and dark and she was panting with desire. "Ohhh,
suck me baby," she pleaded, "Suck me please!" I ignored her entreaty.

Then I stood up and moved to the other side of the bed where I began teasing her
right arm, side and breast. This time I took even longer, concentrating on her
reaction to each touch, making sure her level of arousal swelled up and up. I
glanced at Ruth and found her face and neck flushed a delicate pink, her eyes
screwed tightly shut and her mouth gasping for air. Her arms strained against
their bonds, fists clenched.

"Please. No more. PLEASE!" she moaned. I didn't answer.

Briefly I stroked her neck with the feather, then I trailed it lightly down
between her breasts, down the groove in the center of her stomach, into her belly
button. After teasing her belly button for awhile, I replaced the feather with my
tongue, with teasing soft touches. Ruth thrust her hips up eagerly when the
feather passed lightly through her pubic bush. Then I was dragging it slowly down
the inside of one thigh, then up the inside of the other. She twisted her hips
and legs, whimpering, trying vainly to escape.

Still I slid the feather slowly up and down her inner thighs, almost touching the
puffy outer lips of her pussy where her thighs met her sex. She was still trying,
straining to escape my light, feathery torture. I forced myself to continue,
minute after minute.

Finally, then, I tossed the feather away and knelt between her outspread legs
looking down at her bound and straining form. My dick stood out straight,
painfully hard, bobbing slightly. She stared up at me, panting, a light sheen of
sweat covering her face.

"Now!" she whispered eagerly, lifting her head. "NOW!"

I leaned over and rested my weight on my elbows, my face only inches from her
crotch. I pursed my lips and blew on her pussy, fanning the thick hair, enjoying
the smell of warm skin and sex. I turned and stroked the creamy skin of her thigh
with the wet tip of my tongue. Ruth gasped.

I turned my head the other way and trailed my tongue tip up her leg, starting
just above the knee and stopping an inch short of her crotch. My nose brushed her
coarse pubic hair and I heard Ruth give a brief moan. Using short strokes, I
licked my way up the top of her thigh to the little crease where it joined her
hip. My tongue followed the crease down until I reached her hair. Then I turned
my head and did the same on the other side of her sex.