“Go ahead, I’m not the pro here.”The evening was off to a nice start - the wine was nice, the salad was surprisingly good for some arugula, cara...elized onions, blue cheese and a vinaigrette, and the view definitely made it worth the long train ride out to the trendy side of town.“So let's see,” Sam took a sip of his wine and put the glass on the table. He leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, “Vivian Quincy is originally from Leavenworth, Kansas. Army brat?”“Yes,” she. I pull my left knee up towards me and then let it lie back down to the side. My hand now travels to the inside of my upper thigh. As I do so, my right hand runs through my short, soft pubic hair, gently pulling it as I do so. After a moment, I draw my hand to my mouth to wet my fingers and then return it to my crotch. My wet finger tips delicately run over the folds of my vagina. Exploring the creases of the skin. Down and up over the lips before returning to my mouth to wet them some more.. She made her free tits bounce inside the dress. The blonde curls danced around her face.The girl was in shock. Her lips moved. They were glossed over with tears and snot. Little squeaks escaped her panting chest. Her hands fluttered like pale nestlings not knowing how to fly. Then she sniffed. She pulled the back of her hands over her nose and eyes. They left streaks of make up. Her eyes sparkled in a dramatic frame of ruined mascara."I... I am so sorry, Mistress", she whispered. Her voice was. "Tell me her name," she said in a barely audible wheezing voice. He pulled his mouth away from hers, released the grip on her throat, grabbed her hair and forced her on to her stomach. "She wasn't a whore like you! I told you to never mention her again!" he sneered as he pinned her wrists in to the small of her back and pushed his knee in between her legs, forcing them apart. "You said she looked like me. Did she have my smile?” she asked in defiance as she winced at the pain shooting in her.
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