No man ever had, not there. A little groping at the breasts, at a dance or something, but never there, her most private place.Then Gwenneth did something she had been doing, on and off, since she was about thirteen. With one scarf, she tied her left ankle to the left bedpost, and, stretching to do so, she used the other scarf to tie her right ankle to the right bedpost. When she lay back, her straightened legs formed a wide vee. This is childish, she thought to herself, but only briefly, for this was her way of turning on her favorite fantasies.She was a Christian slave in ancient Rome, and her master, who really loved her, had had the eunuchs bind her thus so he... well, the details were a little vague, but it gave her a thrill. She rubbed two fingers up and down her furry mount, and a delicious tingly feeling accompanied her fantasy. "This slave must be punished!" said her master, who spoke English, not Latin. A little shiver of fear, entirely contrived, added zest to her. I was in no doubt it would be made up at a later date if we continued to see each other. I slid from underneath her curvaceous frame and decided to make a move downstairs for a coffee. I retraced my steps down the large oak, winding staircase. In the heat of the moment last evening I had no time in which to admire the decadence and finish of this palace, it really was a stunning house. After opening a couple of doors I found my way through to large kitchen, beautifully modern and light with American white oak units and a stunning black marble worktop, the size would be enough to run a large restaurant out of I thought to myself. I flicked on the coffee machine giving thanks for the easy accessibility of all of the ingredients and turned my attention to how Rose may take her coffee. ‘No sugar, I am sweet enough.’ I near jumped out of my skin as I spun round. Offering my apologies for roaming her house semi naked, I was quickly silenced as I traced her curves with my eyes through her.
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