“Shall we walk?” I nodded. She eased off her gloves and paused. Standing close, she unbuttoned her jacket. She looked into my eyes, “I do so lik... the Met. It was my husband’s favourite too.” The raw silk slid provocatively from her shoulders, revealing a translucent chemise. “It is so damned hot!” She sighed as her upper body rippled, and inches from my face, her fleshy breasts undulated in agreement. Like the plastic dog that sits on the back shelf of a car, I bounced along with them.“This is. It caressed his abrasions and filled him with warmth. She stopped, but let him sit for a moment, ass in the air, with the hot piss filling every cranny of his rectum, then she grinned. "Quid pro quo, my slave," she murmured softly, as if the lines between slave and Mistress were blurring. "You must take me up my ass."As she knelt and Brian stood, he felt the warmth drain out of him onto his legs, and he hoped the soon he could feel that fullness again, maybe with her piss, or maybe with. More

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