John put his warm hands on my waist to stop me from swaying. “How does it feel?” he asked.“Strenuous,” I replied.He laughed and said, “You�...ll get used to it after a while.” Then he lowered the hook to set my feet back on the cold concrete floor. “You’re doing fine, Beverly,” he whispered and stepped closer until he was brushing up against my back. I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck, and I remained motionless. His hand stroked my sides.“You’re mine now. You have no will of your own,”. My partner's mask was deep purple, with some black lines.The season was just beginning; it was the first night of the dances...But now onto this stranger’s bed, his hands slipped up my thighs until they cupped my buttocks. His thumbs then pressed against my damp pussy lips, slipping between them. My groan was muffled, half in protest and half in encouragement. I writhed beneath his strong hands, pressing myself harder against him. I could not help but want him, whoever he was."Not so fast,. More

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