He trailed his tongue down the inside of her arms, where the skin was soft and tender. He kissed the curve of her hip, and ran his hands down one shap...ly leg, lifting it over his shoulder, the other imprisoned between his own legs. He showed her his tongue again, and she shook her head. But, watching her, he let his tongue drift slowly down until it brushed the golden triangle between her legs. She lifted her free leg and tried to push him away, but he grasped it tighter in his iron hand. He. ? The woman’s voice was insistent, would not, could not be denied. ?Image yourself in her position; imagine how you would feel; imagine how you would crave the attention.?All the while Julia had kept on easing her fingers deeper and deeper inside. She had, indeed, been empathizing with the exhibit, wondering what it must be like waiting, latex clad and bound, waiting for the unseen touch to give meaning to this existence. She could feel the rising heat of the exhibit’s response which, in. More

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