Fetish cmnf stories
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All she knew was that Ted Jackson was the kind of man she was sheltered from all her life, and she needed to see why. "I'm looking for a gun I can carry, like a handgun, but so far I don't see anything powerful enough." She was making this up, and she hoped she didn't sound stupid. Ashley closed her eyes as the weapon began moving, sending more tears down her cheeks. His cock had been hardening as soon as she removed her clothes, but after watching her begin to masturbate with a gun in her mouth, he was as hard as he had ever been. He placed his left hand on the back of her head, grabbed her hair, and pushed slowly until his cock was deep in her throat.
The secretary continued, it's important that I be blunt and up front with you so we do not waste your time and ours if it turns out we are not a good match, and that you completely understand what you are getting into if you agree to even interview for this job. Tiesha put her hands on her hips feeling like a body builder posing. When you walk in there and he begins to speak to you it's very likely he will come to you and start letting his hands roam all over your body. After a pause The secretary smiled and said a nod will suffice to let me know you understand and still want to continue.
Katie felt absolutely humiliated at being so casually stripped topless by this young man and she could feel his eyes taking in every detail of her naked breasts. Rob quickly opened the door of a locker by the wall and took out a large bath towel. Standing close behind her so that she felt the folds of his towelling robe against her back, he placed his hands on her waist, then slowly he ran them around her rib cage and up until they were cupping both her generous breasts and their aroused nipples. Pandora's eyes closed tightly and her back arched as she pushed herself further into her master's tantalising mouth, his strong tongue lashing her nipple into ever greater size.
H showed me the email and melted my insides when he said, "You will go as my slave." H fashioned himself a standard bed sheet toga according to some instructions on You Tube, then dedicated his spare time to my costume, a Roman slave tunic designed to barely cover my 5'4", 118lb frame. I watched her every move, her graceful barefoot stride to the dance floor, the beauty of her poised neck as she looked up at her Master begging with her eyes that he change his mind. H tossed the tiny tunic over his shoulder and lingered long enough for everyone in the well-lighted game room to get a good look at me before we started back for the dance floor.