She nodded again.
“Okay,” said Karl-Heinz, straightening up. “The show’s over. My girl and I need to debrief. Thank you so much.”
He drew the curtains around the divan and joined Lydia, who knelt up on her heels and fell gratefully into his strong embrace. His hands roamed all over her hot bottom, squeezing it, fingers prising open the cheeks and delving into the space within.
“You are so brave,” he told her, slipping a hand down between her pussy lips, which flowed with her juices. “And so wet,” he exclaimed. “That turned you on, then?”
“Mmm. It was better than the fantasy. It was just so… I don’t know. It was like jumping out of a plane or something. The fear and the exhilaration. It takes you to a higher level.”
“You gorgeous, amazing girl.”
He kissed her soundly, all the time manipulating her clit between firm fingers, rubbing and stroking, giving her an outlet for all the heat that had built up in her during the spanking.
When her orgasm came it was powerful, quaking through her while she slumped against von Ritter’s chest, waiting for her body to come back to her.
He ruffled her hair, kissing her forehead.
“Please, Sir, would you like me to suck you?” she asked shyly, looking down at his tented suit trousers.
“Perhaps later.”
“But aren’t you uncomfortable?”
He lay down, settling her into his arms, making no reply.
She had to ask. This was getting ridiculous now.
“Look, Karl-Heinz, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but will we… Are we ever going to… I don’t know how to phrase it…”
“You were perfectly able to offer oral sex.”
“I wasn’t nervous about what the answer might be.”
“It’s all right, Lydia. I know what you’re asking. You want to know if we’ll ever have conventional, penetrative sex.” He smiled at her, a little sadly, as if he thought she was disappointed in him.
“Well, yeah. I’m not saying I’m unhappy with what we—”
“I know, I know.” He kissed her. “Although lots of women would be. Perhaps it’s not fair on you.”
“Is there a reason why you don’t want to?”
“Yes, there is, but it’s not to do with you. It’s not that I don’t want to. I suppose I’m just a very strange person.”
“Oh, Karl-Heinz. If you’re strange, then so am I. What do you mean?”
He stared at the ceiling, at the plaster cherubs on the cornicing.
“It’s to do with control. I try to hold out to the very last, until I absolutely can’t resist. I suppose it’s a test I set myself. It’s become a little…shall we say…pathological. It’s so stupid of me, but I can’t seem to lose the habit.”
“It sounds almost like an anxiety thing.” She held his hand, wondering what could have happened to this man to bring him to this.
“Yes. I’m sure you’re right.”
“And it’s about self-control rather than control of your lover?”
“Yes, completely. I don’t kid myself that I really have any control over you. What we do is purely consensual. I couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to. The only person I can really control is myself.”
“Is that why you don’t want a blow job?”