Discreet
highly personalized fetish phone sessions
Call one of our very strict Domme fantasy makers - she'll know just what to do with you
415-621-1187
My nipples were hard as dimes as I commenced to alternate my attention back and forth between Her feet, kneading and suckling each in turn. My nostrils flared and my anus wept mutely, for I, and it, knew what was coming . . .
Having licked the exotic the Jam completely from Her toes, I moved myself into a position upon my belly upon the pallet. I heard Her chair squeak as She rose.
“On your back!” She commanded.
I turned over and gazed up at Her. She stepped over me and stood there, a foot on either side of my ribcage. With Her hands on Her hips She leaned back so that all I could see was Her calves and thighs and her cunt-fleece above me, catching the light where Her own juices were just beginning to leak into view, the dark crease of Her outer lips pouting forth bewitchingly. When She bent forward, the swells of Her bosoms depended toward me. She squatted down close to my chest, and I could feel the radiant, almost subtropical heat from Her loins.
Then She was on Her knees, straddling me, Her strong thighs having replaced Her feet on either side of my ribcage. She fastened the strap-on’s girdle around Her waist, pulling its under-strap snug up under Her and fastening it behind Her. I stared into Her eyes, which were imperious and pitiless and mocking in the way they stared back down into mine.
“Do you want my cock, Lover? Tell me you want my cock now.”
She placed #7 in my hand, and I rooted its base fast to the girdle, anchoring it against the contoured cup that was snug against Her clit.
“Grease it,” she ordered.
I dipped my hand into the foot-pan and withdrew it, the Jam coating my fingers. Putting both hands together in a washing motion, I spread the Jam to both hands, and then I took hold of #7.
“Have a taste,” She teased, easing Her hips forward so that the head of #7 touched my lips. I made an “O” with my lips and took just the head of #7 into my mouth. It smelled of Jam and it tasted of Jam and I knew that soon its very length would be jammed utterly between my cheeks. My two hands played along its shaft, spreading the Jam’s grease liberally.
“On your belly, Lover,” She breathed, the raspy urgency of aggression frisking and heightening Her tone of voice, “it’s time......