I see the fair skin of my tight belly and smile as I see the skirt wrapped around my waist. It's pleaded, red and black, held only in place by a strip...of Velcro, it's short stopping right below the ass. I can't see them, but I know that there is a pair of panties under the skirt that matches the bra I wear. It's not a thong or g-string, but a pair of hip hugger briefs that cut short along the ass, so that the bottoms of my cheeks hang out of the panties. I see a pair of white fishnet stockings. Her moans now loud and harsh telling of her joy as he caressed her hips on his way to his goal. This she knew was real sex, not sex as a duty by a man paid to sleep with her as the rest of the staff, but sex from a man who wanted her as her, as a deep seated need near to love itself, his tongue sliding into her cleft like a snake on oiled glass, seeking out her clit, probing her moist valley with an urgency that told of months of celibacy. The tongue did not stay over long, first his. More

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