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Round her neck she wore her collar, he had lovingly fitted it and locked it in place a symbol of his total ownership. She wore no rings or jewellery, just a dab of perfume and a roll of deodorant. Her hair short enough not to be in the way of the whip but long enough to keep her attractive, her slightly angular face only lifted by her lippy and some mascara, the latter, not for the looks, but for the enhanced effect when the tears ran, these user, at least the sadistic brand of men who hired her services, just loved to see tears flooding down her well slapped cheeks. A white near transparent blouse, and a maroon calf length skirt with a matching jacket completed the ensemble, and with a nod at her mirror she smiled, and muttered “you`ll do” as she slipped into her heels. Dressed now she presented herself to T in his room. He checked her out, had her twirl for him then told her in a flat tone “she was beautiful and he loved her.” A cynic would say there was little emotion in the. You said...you didn't...ahn...ahh..." I'd never heard her this way. She sounded vulnerable, almost upset. But she was also getting louder. The shower still pounded outside but one more outburst like that..."Get up here," she finally said. She tapped my head. "Get up here and fuck me already-" It was still dark outside. There was barely any light underneath the covers but was there enough to hide my face? I didn't have long to wonder; Kelly threw the covers off my body just as I was rising up from her soaking pussy. Kelly's expression went from single-minded lust, even anger, to one of sudden, wide-eyed surprise. Let me explain the picture. Kelly was laid flat on the bed, her nipples pointed up at me from their stiff, pink areolas, her knee bent up, the other open wide beneath me (literally bow-legged beneath me), her blonde hair bed-matted from tousling against the pillow, her hand pressed into the mattress, waiting to be penetrated, her other arm d****d suddenly loosely over the.
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