[Slave_E]

Every sound was painful. The light hurt my eyes. My stomach felt queasy. And Nadia was gone...

The day had gotten off to a bad start. I went to the toilet, but nothing came out. I crawled back to bed, and my phone rung. Bleary-eyed, half asleep, dreaming of a happy day I almost ignored it, but my gut told me not to. It might be the BF. I had to be reachable at all times.

It wasn't the BF. It was a call from the Grim Banker's personal assistant, telling me that he had found my notes useful and that he wanted me to accompany him to a meeting with an important client in Düsseldorf tomorrow morning. I was to be at Gate 13 in Tegel at exactly 8:15.

The Grim Banker was neither grim nor a banker, he was a big shot at a big media and PR company and he seemed to like me. I was not so sure about my feelings, but, to be honest, after our last encounter I had been impressed and now I was curiously attracted to him. I wondered what he was up to. Was it purely professional or did he have a personal agenda? I was slut enough to hope for the latter.

It was way too early to deal with issues like these. My brain was fuzzy and my pussy was sore and the fact that I still needed to cum did not add to my well being. But one thing at a time - I would not be able to concentrate on anything without a solid breakfast.

I found orange juice in the fridge, poured me a big glass and gulped it down thirstily. I found some leftover prosecco, stale and warm, and could not resist to gulp it down from the bottle. I started the coffee maker, placed two slices of bread in the toaster, beat two eggs in the pan, added two slices of bacon and waited for my breakfast to be ready.

While waiting, I killed time by looking out of the window. The sun was shining, a young mother was pushing her double buggy along, school kids on bikes drove by shouting happily to each other, teenage girls in comfy shorts and colorful tops ignored the world around them, totally absorbed by the luring screens of their smartphones, and I could not refrain from thinking, what if they had the password to the BF's website? What if they could see me? Would they guess that I only did it because I was blackmailed? That I still hoped that my parents would never find out what I had to do for the BF? I was ashamed and embarrassed, but at the same time strangely aroused and reminded of my duty. Suddenly, as if a wave had hit me, I felt all breathless and tingly and my hand, like it had a mind of its own, stole between my legs and found my swollen clit.

The sizzling of the eggs in the frying pan brought me back to the things at hand. I danced around the apartment, teased my nipples, wiggled my ass and made a big show for the BF's cameras. I turned the stove off, filled my mug with hot coffee, put eggs, bacon and toast on a plate and stuffed the meal down with an astounding appetite. And I decided I needed a bath.

I don't take baths often, normally I take showers, but when I do, it's when I need time to myself. And today I needed time for myself.

Carefully staying in the line of view of at least two cameras, I climbed in the bathtub, sat with my legs apart, spread my lips, pulled my clit hood back and poured sweet smelling baby oil all over my body. It stroked my shoulders, moved down to my tits, swayed my hips, massed in my crotch, ran down my thighs and wetted my ass cheeks. With oil covered fingers I started to do clit circles. My nipples harden as I enjoyed the pleasure and slowly a different scent added its spice to the fragrance of the oil. After about six edges, my skin had soaked up the oil and my pussy was wet and dripping, but though I was horny as hell I did not speed up.

Not speeding up, staying at the same slow pace, you can build up towards an orgasm for a long time. I have tried this often and never found it to fail: The longer the arousal, the bigger the explosion. And it comes with a catch: You can start anew as often as you want when you back off before you reach the point of no return.

I stopped before I reached the point of no return and stood up to get me a drink, but I shivered and panted and my juices were running down my legs and I had to go outside to calm down and I stood in the cool air and still did not know whether I had done the right thing or not. What was it that kept me from having orgasms?

I poured a big glass of wine and returned to the bathroom. I turned the water on, the temperature as hot as I could tolerate, lay flat on my back, pulled my knees up to my chest, thrust my hips forward, brought my pussy directly below the faucet and let the water hit my clit. I winced, it was painfully hot, but when I lessened the flow rate to a mere dribble, my body adjusted to the warmth. The water did not hit me strong enough to make me cum but it hit me strong enough to turn me on. It was a tantalizing feeling.

I slowly sipped my wine, the water mounted up and I concentrated on the temperature difference between the underwater part of my body and the part above the waterline. I liked the feeling of the water dripping on my clit, I relaxed and sipped more wine and closed my eyes and dozed of, only to be alerted by a painful, almost unbearable tension in my groin and I knew I needed to cum and I had to cum and I wanted to cum and I came and spasms shook my body and I moaned and I came again and when I thought I had reached the peak, I had not, I could not stop it and I went on, using my fingers and I endured the pain and I came again and again and a last time and then I stopped.

As always when I come down from an orgasmic high, my body tingled in pure naked bliss. I leaned back, immersed in the water, tugged lightly at my nipples and enjoyed the afterglow.

I stayed a lot of time under water; sweat running down my face, steam fogging up the bathroom window. The sun went down and the room got dark and the waters around me cooled down. I did not dare to move, I wanted to preserve all the warmth that was left.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone beeped. What the fuck...? It was Ben and he brought me back to reality in the worst possible way...