Chapter 323: The Weeknd Afternoon 2
"I have another way."
His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the thin black string of the thong where it disappeared between her cheeks.
He pulled the fabric aside, exposing the smooth, pink folds of her pussy.
She was already slightly damp — whether from residual adrenaline or the repeated spanks, he could not tell.
He ran two fingers slowly along her outer lips, feeling the soft heat of her skin, then pressed inward to find the slicker, warmer folds within.
Kuri’s body tensed the moment he made contact.
Her breath hitched once, then returned to its controlled rhythm.
Lor explored her carefully. He parted her folds with gentle pressure, spreading the slickness he found there, and began a slow, circular rub against the sensitive flesh just above her entrance.
His middle finger found her clit and pressed lightly, rolling the small bud under the pad of his fingertip.
Kuri’s hips twitched. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her throat.
He kept the pressure steady and rhythmic, building the sensation in gradual waves.
Her breathing grew less even. The muscles in her thighs tightened. Her pussy grew wetter under his touch, coating his fingers with clear arousal.
He could feel her clit swelling, becoming more sensitive with every pass of his fingertip.
When her hips began to push back against his hand in small, involuntary movements, Lor stopped completely.
He simply held his fingers still against her folds, offering no friction, no pressure.
Kuri’s body remained tensed for several long seconds, waiting for the stimulation to resume.
When it did not, a frustrated breath left her lungs.
She shifted her hips, trying to regain the contact herself, but the wooden cuffs and her position across his lap limited her range.
Lor waited until the tension in her body eased slightly. Then he began again.
His fingers returned to her clit, this time with slightly firmer pressure.
He rubbed in slow, deliberate circles, occasionally dipping lower to gather more of her wetness and spread it over the sensitive bud.
Kuri’s breathing grew heavier. Soft, muffled sounds began to escape her with each exhale. Her hips rolled in small circles against his hand, seeking more.
He brought her higher this time. Her thighs trembled. Her pussy clenched visibly around nothing.
A thin strand of saliva escaped the corner of her mouth and dripped onto his pant leg. Just as her body began to tighten toward release, Lor stopped again.
Kuri made a low, choked sound of pure frustration. Her hips jerked uselessly. The wooden cuffs creaked as she strained against them.
"Why are you after me?" Lor asked calmly, his fingers still resting against her soaked folds but offering no movement.
She gave no answer.
He waited nearly a full minute before starting the third round. This time he used two fingers, one on either side of her clit, stroking the sensitive sides while his thumb pressed gently against the top.
The dual sensation drew a longer, higher sound from Kuri’s throat. Her ass clenched. Her heavy breasts pressed harder against his thighs with every labored breath.
Wetness coated his fingers completely now, dripping down onto the black fabric of her pulled-down pants.
He kept her at the edge longer this time, reading the subtle shifts in her body — the way her calves constricted, the way her shoulders tensed, the small, desperate sounds she could no longer fully suppress.
When he felt the first flutter of her approaching climax, he withdrew his hand entirely.
Kuri’s entire body shuddered. A broken, needy whimper escaped her. Saliva now dripped steadily from her open mouth onto his lap. Her hips bucked in empty air, searching for any friction at all.
"Still nothing?" Lor asked.
Silence.
The fourth round was slower and more thorough.
He parted her folds with two fingers and rubbed the length of her slit from entrance to clit in long, deliberate strokes, then focused on the swollen bud with tight, rapid circles.
Kuri’s control was fraying. Her moans had grown louder, less restrained.
Her thighs shook continuously.
Clear arousal leaked from her pussy in a steady stream, soaking his fingers and the fabric beneath her. Her hips moved constantly now, grinding against his hand whenever he allowed it.
He denied her again at the last possible moment, pulling his hand away just as her inner walls began to flutter.
Kuri’s head dropped. A long, trembling breath left her lungs. Her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat.
The black ninja suit clung to her damp skin. Her short black hair stuck to her forehead and the side of her face. Saliva continued to drip from her slack mouth onto Lor’s thigh.
He started the fifth time without a word.
His fingers returned to her oversensitive clit and worked it with firm, steady pressure.
Kuri’s reaction was immediate and intense. Her hips bucked hard.
A broken cry tore from her throat.
Her pussy clenched and released in rapid spasms, so close to the edge that the slightest change in rhythm would have pushed her over.
Lor kept her there for a long, torturous stretch, reading every tremor in her body, every desperate sound.
When he stopped this time, Kuri actually sobbed once — a short, involuntary sound of pure need.
Her hips continued to twitch and grind against empty air. Her thighs were slick with her own arousal.
The wooden cuffs had left faint red marks on her wrists from how hard she had strained against them.
Lor looked down at her and felt a small, unexpected flicker of sympathy.
She was a professional. She had held out longer than most would have. Her silence had been almost impressive.
Once more," he murmured, his voice low and rough with restrained hunger, as he finally decided to grant mercy to her poor, aching pussy.
He returned his fingers to her swollen clit, pressing firm, continuous circles against the hypersensitive little nub.
No more teasing flicks. No slowing down. Just steady, relentless pressure that made her dripping folds quiver visibly beneath his touch.
Her pussy lips were puffy and flushed dark with arousal, slick strands of her juices stretching obscenely between her thighs and his pants.
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