She stood, then slowly raised her left foot to her chair seat opening her legs to his fascinated gaze, it was a pin dropping moment… and one he woul... always remember, she stood and taking his hand said, “if your serious about playing out my fantasy, you can play all day today with my body as I said, I am yours but tonight we sleep alone and you must not touch yourself then tomorrow on the stroke of 9 you may come to my kitchen where I shall be waiting dressed just as I have dreamed, there will. I could feel his erection so deep inside of me, just beneath my navel. We were completely connected.He seemed to cherish the moment – or perhaps the warmth. The wet heat, while my vagina direly clenched down on his erection. Not a trace of his dick was left outside, he was – for the lack of a better de***********ion – save and secure inside my pussy.As if that wasn’t bad enough, I even grew vaguely aware of our heartbeats. It was a sickening thought – we were truly connected. Intimately.My. In my lounge, I ran a finger along the rows of books. David Weber, perhaps? John Ringo? Heinlein ... no. McCaffrey. I shook my head in irritation and my finger stopped on 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. What was it about Melissa Sharpe that was so appealing? Maybe it was she resembled Anastasia Steele. But I was no Christian Grey. My thoughts turned to Jen Song, and there was an almost pain in my chest. I shook my head again, angrily; what was the matter with me? Music. Yes, music. But what?. "Let me put it this way, then: what motivates you to please me?"Amanda understood, and her heart both soared and ached. "Because I wish to please you. It gives me pleasure to give you pleasure, Master."Her words had once been truth, and she gambled she could recapture it that night. When he paused after he had stepped out of his pants, she held out some hope. It was clear to her he had expected to be presented with a slave broken to the Urisi system and was proven wrong.When Amanda realized.
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