15th July 2011
Day 4 of the task was to masturbate for 16 minutes without cumming but I had a brain wave and asked Sir if I could wear the pearls for the morning whilst I was out and about doing my jobs instead. After giving it some thought he declared that he liked the idea and so yesterday morning before leaving the house bright and early to drop my son off at his new school I took the string of pearls, lay down on my back, tilted my hips up and bit by bit stuffed them into my pussy.
It is not a short string of pearls by any stretch of the imagination and getting the last quarter of them in is tricky, they pinch and tug at the delicate folds of my opening, which makes me twitch with longing and grumble at the sensation all at the same time. I was soaking wet and it didn’t take as long it had in the past to get them all inside me.
I was in a rush though, and so I slipped my trouser on without any panties and headed for the door. As I jumped into the car the pearls that were straining at the opening of my pussy ground together and I had to bite my lip against the little whimper that wanted to escape. For the rest of the morning I rushed from one thing to another but little did anyone know that I was walking round with a pussy stuffed and stretched, full of pearls, grinding and shifting, biting and pinching at me. Every movement sending delicious ripples of sensations through my throbbing pussy.
By the time I got home I was nearly on fire, but it was a fire that was being doused with a sticky wet stream of moisture that meant the pearls were so slick and smooth that they had started to ooze out of my cunt and hang down between my thighs. I was so happy to be home and finally able to strip off my clothes, lie down on the bed, spread my legs and explore my pussy slowly with my fingers, letting the few pearls that had already escaped from my wet hole, roll round over my clit, my hip bucking as the sticky little pods bumped up against my delicate little bud.
Slowly, so very slowly I pulled the pearls from me, my pussy twitching and tightening at them as they slide from within me. My clit was crying out for my touch, standing firmly out from its little hooded cap, but I avoided it and left it there wanton and desperate. I knew to touch it now would be a fatal move and probably end up with me failing this task.
As the last of the pearl left my pussy I wrapped them round my hand and admired the shiny surface, coated with my juices and watched with growing delight as it slid from the pearls and onto the back of my hand. Once I had taken my picture, I let the pearls glide over my breasts and tummy, leaving their sticky trail wherever they went.
The rest of the day has been spent in an increasing torturous state, my pussy is constantly wet, my clit is extra sensitive, and even the delicate lace fabric of my panties is driving me insane. Tomorrow is the last day of touching; the dull ache between my thighs is slowly but surely building into a roar.
Below is a list of the rest of the posts relating to this task