She did as she was told, knowing there was no backing down now. She removed his jacket, then mashed herself against him, probing gently into his mouth...with her tongue. Then she removed his tie, and he awarded her with a searing kiss of a longer duration than hers had been. She started to unbutton his shirt but he guided her hands to his trousers. She was nervous and fumbling, but she managed to unbuckle the belt, then the zipper, then she moved his trousers down his leg. She blushed when she. My Mistress knew that to send me to Maria was a punishment of sorts. To ask her forgiveness was hard and, as Mistress Pickles suggested, to have her, was to be a trial of my humility. Heavy hearted I went to her room. I knocked, which is something I would never normally do for I am the arm of law in the household and have right of entry in all but my Mistress’s apartments. She admitted me into her room, a candle still burning in the stick by her bed. She smiled and I think enjoyed my. My brain ran a short circuit, there must have been smoke coming out of my ears.I looked over at him, then, and the expression on Paul’s face was a confused mess. His cheeks were as red as mine, if not more so. His eyebrows furrowed, his posture defensive. He had pulled the blankets over his midsection, covering his morning wood from view. He looked up at me, and I held his stare. Something clicked, then, and I realized that Paul must have been more embarrassed by far in that moment. He didn’t. Her chest pushes towards me as my hands cradle her spine. She is delicious in her state of arousal, giving up her nerves to become this siren as she arches to my touch, the touch of my lips, my hands, my body as I shrug off my shirt. Her fingers search my back, her hands gripping and smoothing over my skin as though unable to decide where to land as she gives in to the sensation. ** His hands are like the flames themselves, burning over my skin, claiming every inch of me. I wrap one of my legs.
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