Bruise

The bruise on my right shoulder is small, colourful, and it barely hurts now. Tomorrow it will probably be gone, but today it has given me the pleasure of an erotic buzz every time my hand has wandered up to my shoulder to press it lightly. When I discovered it this morning, stepping into the shower, I ran my fingers across the purplish patch, and could suddenly taste sweat and the salty musk of Abigail's pussy.

I can't know, but the bruise is probably from the way the heavy steel clips of her leather wristcuffs banged against my back as we fucked. After spanking her ass, pale skin reddening beneath my hands and a heavy leather paddle, her wrists clipped to a chest-harness of red rope, I wanted to enjoy looking at her limbs spread out beneath me. The taste of her pussy and the sight of her spread legs made me careless.

Next time I'm bringing a lot more rope, I think.