He would deliver her into sweet slavedom.Angique opened her eyes. She drank in the blue vastness of her view. Then she stepped back. She turned around...and walked to the wicker chairs. They were set back into the shadows of a huge umbrella. The towering heels of her laced up leather boots clicked elegantly on the slabs of white marble. The sun painted liquid curves of light on the leather of her corset and tights. Then she reached the shadows to protect the paleness of her skin.She sat down. She. When did it stop? She is still kissing me, her warm tongue lapping my juices and my body aches, my bound hands pressing into the small of my back where I have collapsed unnoticed on to them. She must know I have returned for her tongue stops and her hands are on my shoulders lifting me, she wants me to stand, but my legs are shaking and I gladly let her lower me to my knees. I hear the scrape of the chair's legs and then fingers pushing past my dry lips, the panties being pulled free from my. More

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