He watched as her hands moved in rhythm, one up, one down, and she began to rock back and forth, panting, making small soft sounds of desire. Suddenly... she wrapped both arms around herself. "Michael, are you ready?" "Yes," he whispered. "Yes," she echoed, and moved forward a bit. She reached to caress his cock with both hands, feeling how wet it was, sliding her fingers over it to spread the lubrication around, the wetness from her hands adding to his. And then she rose on her knees, moved. ‘Shall we dance my dear?’ he asked with a smile, his hand held out in invitation. Eleanor wanted to speak, but her lips stubbornly refused to obey her. She moved her mouth, but nothing came out. Instead she stared up into the dark eyes and handsome face of her companion. He waited patiently for her response, his mouth curled in amusement. Helplessly Eleanor took his proffered hand and stood shakily. Glancing down at herself she realised in wonderment she was wearing the elegant crimson silk. More

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