<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/cQ5ZPB0.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_u">Blaire Simmons</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_u">Location</span>- En route to The Rusty Spur Saloon<br/><span class="bbc_u">Date &amp; Time</span>- April 15th, 2006. 10:35 PM<br/><span class="bbc_u">Tag</span>- Clint<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Blaire growled softly with a mix of frustration and amusement as Clint continued to work her pussy and keep her in a pleasurable limbo that was nevertheless gradually becoming less and less bearable. Her little mind game to taunt him into taking her over the edge just to prove that he could hadn't exactly worked, but in a way she would have felt disappointed if it had. That would have been far too easy and boring.<br/><br/>Clint only needed to lightly tickle her clit whenever he wanted to make her squirm or cry out, each touch reverberating through the length of her piercing and then back again for quite literally double the pleasure, and he was getting dangerously good at abusing that power to the fullest.<br/><br/>"Who do you know that...<em>nnnngghhhh</em>...carries extra underwear around on them, idiot?!" Blaire's voice got higher as she spoke thanks to Clint purposely ramping up his strokes to make it harder for her. By the end of her sentence she couldn't take anymore, slapping her hand hard against his shoulder and digging her shiny red nails into it through his shirt, silently demanding that he give her more.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, as he was hopefully distracted, Blaire subtly tried to slide her right hand down to her throbbing little nub to give herself what she wanted if he wasn't going to. When they'd started, Blaire had thought that holding out wouldn't be so hard, but then again it wouldn't be the first time that she'd overestimated her self-control.