It parted, she felt the skirt slip down her legs. She pulled the released garment down her smooth long legs, she bent down and handed it to her Mistre...s. Sandi placed the skirt with the girl’s discarded blouse on the floor and looked at her? Slavegirl.? Rachel lay back in her seat, her arms submissively at her sides. Tears of fear filled her eyes as she looked at Sandi, her blond hair fell over her nude shoulders .The skimpy black lace bra barely covered her heaving breasts, they thrust against. He went soft now, it was amazing the tears on her face said it all to him. What fun he was going to have. When he wrapped her hair in his hand it stung, He f***ed her mouth open and she tried so hard not to let him. He seemed to read her thoughts and gave her such a warning that she gave up any notion of doing anything. The tip of his cock went into her mouth as he pulled her towards him slowly forcing her mouth wider and wider till she felt it tickle at the back of her throat, surely he could. But the delight on my husband’s face had been disturbing so it will be no surprise at all to learn that, with only a few days to go before we were due to meet our potential temporary lovers, I was getting cold feet.My husband was apparently having no such second thoughts and had become used to providing constant reassurance as our conversation that Sunday evening – the last before our proposed ‘date’ – was clearly demonstrating.*“Tell me about them again,” I asked, staring at the bedroom. ?Bitch, didn’t you say you were mine?? He has temporarily paused in fucking me and my attention is divided between this dialogue and my extremely sensitive, pulsing, aching, pussy in its post-multiple-orgasm state. I am desperately holding onto his wrist with both my hands even as he tortures my breasts. There is a pause. Finally, even as I can’t help but grind on his cock a little, I mutter, ?Yes, I said that.??Said what???I’m yours.??Then ask me.?He moves his hand down—my clutch on his.
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.I can barely breathe or catch my voice to respond. I don't want to make eye contact for fear he will know what is transpiring under the table. I feel
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