Best S&M, Volume 3 Read Free

outfit must look like sun-drenched binocular lenses in a war movie. She jumped from view and then peered around the curtain after a few moments. Jeremy was focused on motionless Red again.
    Red’s head shook side to side. Jeremy said something, and Red eased her hand from his and walked toward the front door of his apartment. She held up her hand to stop him from following. As the door shut behind her, his shoulders slumped. He disappeared from view.
    Ying felt a letdown deeper than the day G.I. Joe got away. But after a few minutes, she felt a strange wave of relief. She’d already sacrificed her relationship with Ronnie when she tried a second time to get him to spank her.
    Ying rushed to her dim bedroom, closed the curtains, changed into safe sweats, dismantled her impromptu table and chairs, and relegated all the accoutrement of the meal-time trappings into the corner of her closet. She ate her cold meal in the dining room, staring blankly at the nondescript painting of a field of daisies on the wall.
     
     
    Ying unzipped her tan skirt and reached deep into her closet. She brushed smooth leather and the scent filled the air. “No reason I can’t enjoy how it feels.” Ying had spent a small fortune on it. She’d not had sex or even masturbated in weeks, since seeing Red walk out on Jeremy. She was starved to feel sexy.
    There was a sense of comfort even well worn sweats could not rival as the white cocoon encased her nude body. The curtains in her bedroom hadn’t been open in weeks. What was wrong with being seen, looking as sexy as she had ever felt? She opened them.
    The light in the bedroom across the way was on, and she realized it was 8:00. There was a brief twinge of hope that Jeremy had reconciled with Red, and that their passion play would be in summer reruns. But Jeremy plodded past the window dressed in faded jeans and a loose sweatshirt. Suddenly his head reappeared in the window like a cartoon double take. Ying cocked to leap from view. She froze and slowly hooked her thumbs in the tops of her pants, anchoring so she couldn’t defensively cover.
    Jeremy pressed to the glass.
    Ying gripped her hips in pseudo-confidence.
    He gave her a “thumbs up.” They remained locked like a game of “chicken” before Jeremy disappeared into his room, and then jumped back into view. He held up one finger. Ying nodded and said, “I’ll wait.” He disappeared again and, after a few minutes, reappeared in tight black cloth pants, a thin black long sleeved shirt, black gloves, and a mask like Red had worn. The pants did nothing to camouflage a growing, needful bulge. He waited, and Ying gave a “thumbs up.” He held up a small bag and then he put the riding crop inside it.
    Blood squeezed up Ying’s jugular like Stooges in a doorframe. She nodded and Jeremy disappeared from view. In moments, a dark figure moved along the bushes between the two buildings and rounded the corner.
    A wisp of air under her front door announced the opening of the main entryway to her apartment building. Fear, titillation, and excitement supercharged her. She turned off the lights, opened the lock and slid the chain free of its channel, and waited behind the door. It seemed forever until it slowly opened. The crack of light shot a long V-shaped male shadow deep into the living room. Ying held her breath when he paused on the threshold.
    The thief finally began to feel his way into the room. He was even thicker than he appeared, and he smelled so clean and masculine. Chills ran up and down Ying’s spine. She worried he would turn on her like a rottweiler. She worried he wouldn’t. He walked with a strange gait, arms swinging like urgent bell clappers. She realized he was offering her his hands. She accepted and twisted his arm behind his back.
    He held his free hand up. “I give up! Let me go!” The more his deep voice trembled, the more the moisture between Ying’s legs flowed.
    After an awkward pause, she forced a contrived