Another fifteen minutes passed, marked by copious drinking, gentle flirting and uncoordinated dancing as I wondered what Dave had up his sleeve.Then, before I even realised what was going on, it happened: SNAP.I'd been swaying close to the hen at the time. Another snap and I looked down to see we were connected at the wrist by a pair of silver handcuffs. My senses numbed by alcohol, it took a moment to sink in. "Awww, come on guys," I protested as the others looked on, exhibiting cheesy drunken grins.Yet, whilst I was mildly put out, my unwitting partner was absolutely livid. She spat a tirade of expletives Dave's way and angled to throw a punch. But the chain tightened and she was pulled back, left swinging at fresh air, yelping as the cold metal bit into her slender wrist. I winced too as my arm was almost yanked from its socket. "Fucking arsehole, let me go," she screamed and it was at that moment I realised that she wasn't a Geordie like her four friends but southerly like me."No. Without hesitation, she took her index finger and slowly pushed it in as much as she could. She moaned as she closed her eyes and pulled her head back. With the finger still inside, she took her other hand to her clit, and started rubbing it with her middle finger. The other finger, the one inside her, started moving slowly in and out. After a few moments, she pushed another finger in, making her shiver and moan again. This usually was her technique for a quick orgasm.But suddenly, she felt adventurous. She felt like experimenting. She stopped rubbing her clit, as she was already close to cumming - which she didn't want yet. She added a third finger inside her pussy. She felt the need to be filled; she wanted to feel the fullness at the maximum. And she was willing to see how far she could go. She allowed her pussy to stretch to the three fingers, and when she felt she could, she added a fourth one. Now this was intense.Her hand was wet as her pussy generated lots of lubrication in.
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