" she laughed as she leaned forward allowing my nose to part her hairs.I extended my tongue caressing her lips with the tip. But just for a moment.She...stepped away, saying, "I think its time to make you more comfortable."Grabbing my necktie she pulled me toward the bedroom. "Can I count on you to be obedient? Or, do I need to tie you down?" Whichever you want. I can't guarantee that I will be able to control myself."She removed my shirt and tee, shoved me on the bed, and whipped off my tie and. "I think you'd better call me Mai now," she said, and we both collapsed into laughter that grew from nothing but delight."Only if you call me Mike," I gasped.We held each other in our post-coital glow; I kissed around Mai's face and traced the contours of her ears and chin with a fingertip. When I'd softened to the point that I was squeezed out, we rolled and turned until I was spooned behind her, with one arm around her chest, holding her close, and we drifted into sleep.When I awoke the next. “Shit, Frank, if you can get me another bimbo wife, you can fuck them whenever you want. You’ve earned it.”“Uh-huh,” I groaned and then found Margarete’s nipple again.I latched on, sucking hard. Her pussy clenched around my dick as she squealed her delight. She shivered, hips undulating, working faster and faster on my dick. The silky friction shot to my balls. They boiled. I moaned about her nipple, my hands gripping her ass.Her butt-cheeks writhed beneath my fingers as the bimbo worked her. The limo, which they assumed was destined for their homes on Long Island, was instead transporting them to an unknown location, most certainly for some diabolical purpose.As a career professional dominatrix, I have implemented more than my share of novel and bizarre schemes. The limo scheme, as I shall characterize it, was set in motion when two male acquaintances visited my Long Island home, to display their newest acquisition, a shiny twelve passenger black limo with red interior.Some might.
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