His hand was at the hem of my dress now and I was squirming in my seat. I knew that he would soon have me begging him–Master knows just what to do to drive me insane with lust! His hand reached the top of my stocking and I gasped a little when His fingers touched my bare thigh.“Quiet slut! You want everyone to hear you!” he whispered. His hand withdrew a bit–a punishment of sorts for my noise. I gripped the arms of my chair and with my lips closed tightly I shook my head.His hand resumed it’s travel up my thigh until I felt him petting my mound. I raised up just a bit; enough for him to slide my dress up to my waist and then I settled back down, spreading my legs wide for him.He slipped a finger, then two into my sopping pussy, smiling at how wet I already was. He scooped out some of my pussy juice and brought it to his lips, sucking me off his fingers.My heart soared when I saw him smile; I knew he was pleased with me. He began pumping his fingers in and out of me, fingerfucking me. Even his arms grew rigid and unbending. He hardly kissed her as his cock pushed into her and they began to move against each other easily. Again, no romance, no flattery, no foreplay to arouse each other’s internal desires. It was simple and lacking in elegance, and yet became the most cogent and influential moment of lovemaking of all her living days. Part of her body was excited and frightened it was finally happening, part of her heart was frustrated and lost that he’d not come to her with declarations of love and eternal romance. But as she closed her eyes, all of those cravings drew away into the image of him riding her, gentle and demanding all at once. If she lost all other senses and just let herself feel him it was as if she could feel those promises billowing like air from his lungs into her blue sacks of lung. She imagined his thoughts were solid and they pummelled her gently, into her head, into her eyes, while his body rammed lovingly into her physicality and sent her.
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