A complete stranger told me this story while I was conducting research interviews a few years ago, on unusual sexual practices and the use of sex toys. I have anonymized it, of course, and tidied up the grammar, and applied a little artistic license here and there. But otherwise it is exactly the tale I recorded in my notebook at the time
It was the longest string of pearls I had ever seen. They were all the genuine natural article, white and glistening, large and lustrous. A fortune in carefully-matched beads on a slender silken thread. They were stunning, quite magnificent.
Andrea was leaning against the wall of her boudoir, her face and shoulders silhouetted by the moonlight that flooded the otherwise-darkened bedroom. The pearls were draped over her shoulders, wrapped once around her elegant neck, then disappeared between her breasts and into the top of flimsy black negligee that she wore. Delightfully, it emerged again at the hemline. As I watched, she lifted the hem provocatively to show how the beads nestled against the soft and delicate hair framing that most intimate cleft between her legs. She, too, was magnificent.
As I watched, she let the silken negligee slide to the floor and stepped over its puddled darkness. Now quite naked, she moved towards me, a feral, even predatory look on her face. As she walked, the end of the string of pearls trailed on the floor, running between her legs so that the beads brushed against her inner thighs, touching lightly, evocatively against her. She saw how my attention was caught by the pearls against her skin, grinned lasciviously at my reaction; then she caught the thread in one hand and ran the string of luscious spheres between her own pussy lips.
She stood now in front of me, holding the string, offering the loose end to me. I took it. I could tell that the act of giving me the strand of pearls was her way of giving herself to me. The pearlescent jewels felt warm, smooth and sensuous in my hand; I realized they must feel exotically exciting against her skin.
I brushed her face with a loop of the beads, running their glistening surface over her glowing skin. She looked radiant, almost too hot to touch. She licked at the the pearls, hungrily, like an animal. I ran the pearls over her throat, over her creamy and succulent tits, watching the blush of her excitement color that part of her skin framed by her neck and breasts. I licked her mouth, kissed her again, and not for the first time that evening. The heat from her body close to mine was charged, electric: I felt sure she was in great need of my most intimate attentions.
I drew away slightly and lifted up the free end of the string; the other end was still wound around her neck. I wound the skein of pearls around her breasts, under and over those glorious orbs. I pulled hard with both hands, tightening the cords around her so that her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened under the pressure. She arched her back, tossed back her hair, clearly enjoying the sensation, more so as I sucked and then bit her nipples alternately. She squirmed and bucked at my not-so-gentle touch, to the point where I began to worry that the silk thread would part under the strain.
I released her from the binding and pooled the beads in the palm of my hand. She looked at me expectantly, her mouth open. I kissed her again, my tongue caressing the roof of her mouth. As it did so, she took my hand, the hand that still held the pearls, and brought it to her face. I took the hint. I started to feed the pearls into her mouth, just a few at first then, as I realized she wanted more, I added more and more. I licked her lips with my own tongue, its tip skirting around the pearls emerging from her mouth, now stuffed with so many that I could not believe she had not swallowed at least some of them.
By now, I was naked and, after the moonlit show I had just witnessed, as hard as a rock, my dick straining upwards from my loins. She knelt before me and caressed my rigid manhood with her chin, and with the loops of pearls which emerged from her mouth. Then she looked up at me, her mouth opening a fraction wider, her eyes pleading, almost begging for me to enter her.
I dragged the loops of pearls from her mouth. Before I could move, she thrust her mouth over my cock. Astonishingly, she managed to take all of me inside her, my helmet instantly deep in her throat - just where the pearls had been no more than a few seconds before. I looked down at her, her wide eyes bright, her ruby lips nestling up against my balls and her throat rippling. Looking down further, I could see that she was rubbing herself between the legs with the pearls wrapped around two fingers, stimulating her own clit as much as her mouth was exciting the head of my cock.