He told her to grab the sides of the door frame.
The floggers came in different types and materials. Her body moved with the rhythms of the strikes. It was enticing. It was meditative. It was painfully seductive. The material and weight of the implements were changed or used in unison. He noted her gentle sway.
He approached her from behind and ran a finger down her naked, warm back. She used the door-frame to support her weight when she arched. She reminded him of a cat, stretching in the sun.
He stepped back and continued to hit her. She moaned. She panted. He went to her again and pressed tightly against her. He pulled her head back by her hair. She could feel his breath from her clavicle to her earlobe. The back of her bare legs rubbed against the roughness of his bluejeans. Her ass lifted and bumped against his cock, teasing it.
He slid his hand down the front of her shorts and panties. Two of his fingers slipped just inside her pussy lips. She felt his guttural moan.
“Goddamn, girl.” His fingers dipped in juices that he didn’t expect to be there. He turned her around, giving her a good look over.
“Do you need to stop?” He grinned.
She smiled back at him, “I’ll tell you when I want to stop.”
She was going to need the door-frame.