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bear and he knows it. He always loved testing my limits, pushing my boundaries further than I ever thought possible.

      ‘Jeremy.’ I call his name as I reach out for him.

      ‘Patience, sweetheart, patience. Until you lie completely still and do exactly as I ask, this will continue and relief will elude you. The more disciplined you are, the greater the reward.’

      ‘Oh, god,’ I groan, knowing all too well he is completely serious. His ability to tease, tickle and torment every inch of my body has been tried and tested on many occasions throughout our history. I sigh in utter frustration. I am too far gone to say no and he knows only too well I am craving release. I summon all my ‘inner zen’ to lie still, in the position he wants me in and accept the relentless torment without further protest or complaint. I try to count backwards from 100 and lose count as I arrive rapidly at eighty-nine, unable to focus my mind.

      I squirm.

      He stops.

      I lie still.

      He recommences feather warfare. I am frantic for his touch while attempting to maintain this position for him.

      He is relentless, disciplined and patient.

      I am not.

      When I’m saturated with frustration and desire, his body suddenly slams on top of me, spearing his throbbing penis into my vagina so completely I cannot withhold the scream that escapes my lungs. My legs are spread far and wide as he penetrates deeper layers, sparing no force as he pins my arms above my head. He thrusts and thrusts, it is hard and it is fast and it is exactly what I need. My back arches at the force of him, flinging back my head. I feel winded without the dreadful pain. My lubricated vagina hungrily absorbs his entry as he explodes inside me.

      Apparently his patience had finally reached its limit. Thank heavens!

      He collapses on top of me, his weight smothering me into the mattress. We are speechless as we both pant for more oxygen. My tingles below return, deep longing in the base of my belly. This sensation began in the bath and will no doubt stay with me for some time. He snuggles into my neck.

      ‘That was unbelievable. I’ve never woken up like that in my life.’

      ‘Likewise,’ he agrees, kissing, almost eating, my neck.

      ‘Please don’t make me wait that long again. You almost sent me over the edge.’

      He continues devouring my neck hungrily with his lips and tongue before admitting a dire truth. ‘I’m certainly never going to promise you that, sweetheart.’

      I groan. Again.

      ‘You must be starving. Let’s eat!’

      I can honestly say my body has never felt more alive. I have not been this sexed up since my early twenties but this is so much more than it ever was then. How we still have it in us, I don’t know. My lips above want to smile. My lips below are buzzing with greed and anticipation. I can feel sexual energy pulsing through my veins, in my blood. It is the weirdest sensation, sated yet hungry for more. What is happening to me? Can it really be the lack of visual stimulation enabling me to feel so much more than usual, or is it the result of the emotional roller-coaster Jeremy has carefully crafted since my arrival? It’s as if he is awakening sexual cravings that have been lying dormant within me for years, just waiting to be ignited. I can only conclude it must be the combination of all the above as my ability to conduct further analysis at this stage is without a doubt, defunct. I can’t help but ruminate on the irony that my attempts to connect with my analytical mind for research purposes are being constantly annihilated by wave after wave of Jeremy-created sensation.

      Jeremy orders almost everything he can think of from the room service menu. We chat and we laugh and we caress and it doesn’t seem so weird that I’m wearing a blindfold. His voice is so reassuring and familiar that I almost feel totally at ease. The food arrives and we finally eat. I am ravenous.

      ‘Are you still hungry?’ he inquires as he places another strawberry in my mouth.

      ‘I honestly can’t get enough of these, they’re addictive. There is something about fresh strawberries and five-star hotels. It’s like they are designer made, perfect …’

      ‘Well there is only one left. Here, you have it.’ He places it in my mouth and then suddenly withdraws it.

      ‘On second thoughts, you have probably had your share. I might keep this one for myself.’ He loosens my robe and I feel the strawberry circle my nipples. It travels past my bellybutton before teasing my opening. I feel the juicy fruit enticing my vulva.

      ‘I think this one would like to play hide and seek.’

      I whimper as his tongue commences seeking.

      Part IV

      ‘Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.’

       — Anonymous

      ‘Now, let’s get you dressed. We have a big day ahead of us.’

      ‘A big day? Aren’t we just going to hang around here all day and play?’ I don’t envisage getting out of my bathrobe for quite a few hours so I don’t take him the least bit seriously.

      ‘Another question,’ he responds flatly.

      Not the question thing again, I think to myself. His tone makes me apprehensive. I don’t understand what it is about. What is he expecting? A mute? Of course I have questions, what woman on the face of the earth wouldn’t, even under normal circumstances, let alone in this situation? I wish he could just relax and chill a little more about the whole question thing.

      Rather than saying any of these thoughts out loud however, inwardly congratulating myself from the lesson of last night, or whenever it was, I attempt a different tack.

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