You're taller than I imagined and I love your accent, it sounds so different from on the phone. Shall we get a drink and sit down? I haven't worn thes... shoes in ages, and they're killing me," I giggled, my nerves now subsiding.He pointed to a table and asked me what I was drinking before making his way to the bar. I watched him talking to the barman and was overcome with my feelings for someone I just met. I had been afraid that when we met I wouldn't feel the same towards him, and it would be. And then she stopped. "How are you doing?" she asked. I wasn't sure what to say. I was breathing heavily. The feeling was neither pain nor pleasure but a strange amalgam of both. I wasn't sure that I could take it, but I didn't want her to pull out. "I'm OK," I responded, while not entirely sure that that was true. She began moving again, fucking me slowly at first, a shallow back and forth that gradually built in speed and depth. I surrendered to the sensations. I flowed with the steady rhythm. As I arrive and knock on the door I am dressed causally in a polo shirt and kaki, when my Mistress answers the door she is dressed in a black leather jump suit with knee high leather boots holding a leather riding crop, her long black silky hair hanging down her back, the zipper on the jumpsuit pulled part way down showing off her perfect breasts, while not huge they are small, tight and solid and between them on a gold chain the key to my chastity cage. I instantly feel a stirring in my pants. I tried to stifle my groan when her mouth worked its way further down my cock. “What about Eric, was he okay too?” “Mmhmm,” This time it wasn’t any more than a mumble as my cock had gotten very hard in her mouth and her lips were stretching around me. “Do you think they’ll really want to do it again?” She pulled her mouth off me and straddled me. “God, I hope so!” she blurted out right before lowering her hot, throbbing pussy down over my blood-engorged cock. Neither of us spoke for the next.
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