A new experience spread-eagled on the bed stripped down to my boxers. Paola had been talking to someone from, I think, India she'd met who told her how to maximize a man's cock pleasure. It was my birthday. She'd bought me a couple of pairs of my favourite stretchy cotton Jack Smith boxers. In red this time. We were going out at nine and I had to be ready at seven. All washed and brushed on time, Paola came into the bedroom looking classy; black hair in pony tail, white shirt undone enough to tempt, straight silver-grey skirt a couple of inches above the knee, barely black shiny hold-ups (I hoped). Her classy rather than tarty look. Perhaps apart from the long, tick dark false lashes. "Lie down". Out came the handcuffs, four pairs. Soon I was helpless on the bed. A mirror was adjusted so I could see myself. My zip was undone trousers lowered. I could see my bulge reflected clearly. She knelt between my legs and pressed two fingers against the root of my cock. No stroking. No rubbing but as she pushed against it my erection grew throbbing and twitching against the fabric. She just pressed. Two fingers applied like this was all and it already beat many a wanking session. The pleasure was intense. Still pressing with just two fingers Paola used one finger tip of the other hand to touch the tip of my cock briefly. It twitched in response. Again and again. Each time my cock responded. A man can cum in four minutes. Time had stopped. Was it ten? Fifteen? My cock was growing thicker and longer all the time pushing down my pants. Pressing against my pants. Spreading out her hand she touched the ridge at the base of the helmet with a third finger whilst the other solitary finger moved over the tip. By now every nerve in my cock was on edge. Each touch increased my pleasure. She bent forwards and dribbled onto the covered tip the spittle like white cum falling onto me. She the spittle in white and creamy. Two fingers pushing on the root. Paola undid her white shirt. Firm, neat breasts hung free. Nipples like my cock, erect. Kneeling between my legs her skirt showed her hold ups. I could see the tiny white triangle of her panties. Slowly she eased the damp leg of my pants up and the moist tip slid out pressed between the fabric and my leg followed by the rest of the head. She bent forwards and explored the tip, probing the slit and the base of the head. She moved her hand over my imprisoned rigid rod slowly jingling every nerve in it. Using her lips she eased more of my cock out. It pushed upwards escaping the confinement of my pants. She bent forwards kissing it with her long lashes. She took more of it between her red lips. Slowly lips , tongue and teeth took over from her fingers as she worked my nerves inside the warmth of her mouth. Then up and down, her cheek rubbing my thigh. Deftly, she slipped the rest of my cock out. It sprang, free, onto my belly. My balls still trapped, she held the base cock pointing upwards, and I watched as she slid her mouth down to the base taking all my centimetres in her mouth. Then up, lingering over the last inches she tripped nerve after nerve. Slowly the glistening engorged helmet emerged until her tongue danced over it, further exploring the top, encircling its base. Down again. It disappeared between the red lips its needs tended to again within the dark, warm moisture of her mouth. She was so slow. So wonderful. So skilful. She slipped my balls out and fondled, played squeezed, crushed them. They felt hard and firm. Ripe fruit full of juice. Then she started to quicken up a little. She sucked deeply on my cock willing to draw the milk from it. I could no longer keep still. Now I became frantic rather than wondrous. She squeezed my balls as I thrust up and she came down to take my juice. Hand briefly replaced mouth as she worked me. With words she encouraged me. She wanted to feel my hard cock pressing into her. She wanted to sense my urgency. My desperation. She wanted to feel that tiny moment of calm before the storm when I stopped thrusting, my cock rigidified before the final release. She wanted my warm salty spunk in her mouth. She wanted to dribble it onto her hands. Wipe it on her tits. Wipe it on her wet panties. The slow method had driven her wild too. I thrust deep. She pressed down. All my cock in her mouth, I felt the final pause and I shot into her mouth. I felt I had never cum like this. That she must drown. I lay there pumping my spunk into her, Spurt after spurt. Jet after jet. Her head down receiving it. I lay there, cock in her spunk filled mouth until I began to soften. She got up. Spunk, real spunk this time, around her mouth, removed her panties, dribbled her mouthful on to them, gave them to me and, clutching them fell asleep for an hour. Then it was out to dinner, but seeing her hands touching things, her mouth opening to receive food made me twitch. I wanted more when we got home.