’ ‘What do you want, my hand or the hairbrush?’ ‘Both, please, and don’t spare me.’ ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’ I then received a very...satisfying spanking at the hands of my Mistress. But, unlike the fantasy of the night before, I didn’t climax onto her pussy hair. Instead, when she let me up, I threw her legs back and, like a man possessed, plunged up the hilt into her hot, silken wetness. Our mouths and genitals locked together. I was overwhelmed by her physicalness. I craved her tongue, the feel. She slid up on to the top of the desk, and propped a hand behind her, spreading her legs apart, opening up her pussy. It was dripping, and looked so delicious. Her finger brushed her clit slowly and deliberately, like plucking the string of some delicate instrument. She began to let out a series of soft moans, and her head lolled forward, then back languidly, her long hair falling over the tops of her breasts. “Yeah, that’s it, stroke it,” she gasped. Jake imitated the motion of Tiffany. More

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