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Last Tango in Miami Beach

Last Tango in Miami Beach

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05/07/2012

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Last Tango In MiamiBeach.With apologies to Pauline Reage, who wrote, The Story Of O, thisstory also has two beginnings. A side note is that both Frank and Hannahad read, The Story Of O, and had taken it to heart...literally speaking.Which one embraced to their heart, The Story Of O, over the other is amatter of interruption. But in any case one version of the beginning goeslike this: After a hard day at the office, Hanna, not so much physicallytired but mentality drained, arrived at the apartment on the ocean sheshared with Frank. She said the normal hello to Frank who sat on thecouch. He grunted. She went to the bedroom and immediately took off the white nurse’s uniform because the uniform reminded her of work.She had an orderly mind and even though tired took a moment to hangthe uniform in the closet. After sliding off her panties and dropping themin the hamper in the bathroom, she lounged on the bed. The mattress,soft, cushioned her aching legs. The open window faced the ocean and acool breeze stroked her body. According to her, Frank followed her intothe bedroom. She figured he intended using the bathroom and ignoredhim, and out of habit continued playing over the day at work. Doctor Monks had scolded her twice for failing to have a patients chart at hand.The first scolding wasn't so bad, to her way of thinking, after all she hadforgotten that Mr. Wilson had checked in and was sitting in cubical four for at least an hour. But the second scolding, to her way of thinking, wasuncalled for. She had requested the patients file the moment the patienthad arrived. But somebody in records had screwed up and the file hadnever been sent. But she took the heat. She always took the heat as far as Dr. Monks was concerned.Right than, according to her, Frank interrupted her thoughts. "Getyour collar," he ordered.I don't feel like this tonight," She, still dwelling on work, absentlyreplied.As she lay on the bed, brow furled, he studied her for a brief second...a long gaze that ran the length of her naked body. "Go get your collar," he repeated.Work stepped aside. And a spark grew angry inside her. Protestquickly mounted. She had worked all day. She wasn't in the mood for 
 
games. Damn him. At the same time she felt the familiar tingle below her navel. Before she could respond either way, he added, "And the whip."This is one version of the beginning. Another goes as so. Frank hadthe day off from his job as day reporter on the city desk and had whittledaway the hours by reading and watching television. He was dreamy andtranquil by the time Hanna had arrived home. The moment he saw her hethought, poor girl, worked all day...I'll take her out to dinner. But shedidn't allow him time to mention going out for dinner or anything else for that matter, instead she started right off and bitched endlessly about her day at work, while at the same time shedding her clothes and droppingthem on the living room carpet. As she walked to the bedroom shepassed him an all too familiar look. From the living room windows whatwas left of the daylight shone on the pale white of her untannedbuttocks. He obediently followed her to the bedroom. She stretched outon the bed, a hard edge to her gaze. Although the window was open, ahumid heat stifled the room. And not a speck of breeze blew in from theocean. He wore tan shorts and a blue T-shirt. He considered himself ameticulous person, and always neatly folded his clothes before retiringfor bed. But he recognized the signal in her eyes and quickly undressed,leaving the shorts and T-shirt where they fell. She now passed him anapproving glance."Shell I get the collar and the whip? He inquired."What do you think?" She sarcastically asked.He slapped her. Not very hard, in fact he barely brushed his handsacross her face. He even thought that the act hurt her more then him."Say again," he requested.She repeated her question, only this time dropping the sarcasmand strongly adding the word: Sir!"And also bring the surprise," they both said, she adding sir.From here the story merges into one. This is to say that bothparties agree on the events. She obediently rises from the bed and goesto the closet and from the top shelf removes a black collar studded withbrass thumbtacks. Next she removes a whip. The whip is also black andbrass thumbtacks studded the handle. Ready to turn away yet stillstaring as one does when removing an item or two from there secretplace and expecting to find the place empty of hidden objects, a slightgasp escaped her lips. In the confines of the closet the gasp echoed out:Ooooooo!
 
What she gazed upon was a set of black leather hand braces. Thebraces sat alone on the shelf. She stared at them for a good long secondbefore carefully picking them up. To do so she had to grasp the collar and the whip in the same hand. For a moment she examined the braces.Curiously, were only a single brace to be worn to a bar or a restaurant,the brace would pass as a wrist ornament. But the braces were notmeant to be separated. Each brace had two brass snaps. The ends of atwo inch link chain of the kind found on pet leashes were imbedded intothe cuffs. The braces, when snapped closed around a wrist, restrictedhand movement to a few inches.She carried the whip and the collar and the braces to the bed. Didshe have any thoughts during the voyage from the closet to the bed?Yes. She thought, wondered really since she had played the scene manytime before, if their relationship was based on sex, and she brieflyconsidered her role. All her thoughts came to a screeching halt themoment she faced Frank. He stood naked, his clothes a heap at his feet.His cock, as he preferred to have it called, hung against his thigh. Shelowered her head and handed him the whip first. He took it and let itdangle from his right hand. His cock hardened, just a little, but enoughto raise it away from his fleshy thigh."Do you want me to put the collar on sir?" she asked."No," he commanded and took it from her hands, "The hair.""Yes sir," she replied.From this moment on Hanna's thoughts focused on Frank's voice.Her hair, dishwater blond, fell to her shoulders thus obscuring her neck.Her hands folded around the back of her neck and she lifted the hair sothe neck was exposed. He looped the collar around her neck andfastened it.The collar had the unmistakable smell of leather, but also of sex.Semen stained the collar, as did pussy juice. But the two go hand inhand. Hanna thought this. Raw sex. Not the missionary passion, but sex.The thought made her wet and the mental tiredness from workevaporated. God, she thought. Just God. This was her last thoughtbefore her head rocked back. Frank's palm stung her left cheek. Sheblinked, clearing away the momentary water in her eyes."Down," he ordered.But she had anticipated him and rested her knees on the carpetbefore he had finished the command. The bristles felt soft against her 

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