She moves her hands to my head, controlling my movements to some extent, and her hips rotate as she pushes herself at me. Then she's talking - instruc...ing, ordering, urging me on..."Yes...like that....ooohh...suck my clit....harder...good boy....you like my pussy don't you....lick me, lick me like a dog....."I obey the instructions, varying the movements, the techniques and the pressure of my tongue as she reaches a state of high arousal again and again...but I'm enjoying myself too much, and. That one was low, on her sit spot. She bit her tongue as the first tear leaked from her left eye.“Who decides what panties you will wear every day?”“You do, Sir. You decide what touches my clit and pussy, Sir.”CrackShe cried out. Oh, it hurt. More tears flowed."Who decides what color you paint your nails?" Sir, you do. Which ever color pleases you." He picked brighter colors than she ever did before, and one finger on each hand was always a different color than the others, as a symbol. More

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