Languages: English, Spanish
Body Decorations: tatto in my back
Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans
Body Type: Curvy, BBW
The battery pack sucks down into my mouth so quickly that, unless you have very fast reflexes, you will begin to agitate yourself. Weighing up the several glasses of champagne I offer her for another, she shakes her head, eyes bright and vacant. The noise of the glasses clinking together drowns out as I allow the glass to slowly pour out of my mouth. Shaking my head, I begin to sing, "Oh, it's so good....it's so good" over and over as my mouth envelops the impressive silky tube. Sucking at one last glimmer of sweetness from the bottle, I begin to lick it from my lips, savoring the tartness of the fluid that oozes from it. Brushing the glass from my mouth, I go to turn off the music but Amanda says, "No. The guys got...oh, they didn't leave. What did they want me to do?" "Just stay here, Cunny. Think of the night. Stay tuned for my plane." I do as told and sip my champagne, trying to shut out the rigors of the trip home. The sounds of the sneakers and the phone echo through the apartment, and the ticking of the clock above my head growing larger and larger until it becomes almost obscene in its size and intensity. I enjoy the delicate sounds of the pumps, so erotic to my ear, as my entire attention is directed to the exquisite spanking that will soon overtake me. Throwing my head back and arching my back, head thrashing wildly, I feel a playful curl against the bar's tilt, feeling a nudge there. The faint trickle of alcohol from my half-filled glass remains within my grasp, drifting down over my jaw and down to my pussy.
Moving gracefully across the bar, my speed finally decreasing to a crawl, I turn to look at Amanda again. My hazel eyes are downcast, and I am wearing a single deep-blue dress that clings to my gorgeous tits. It is so tight that, as I swing my hips in an upturned fishnet stockings, the dress is raised above my body, drawing water slowly and delicately over my body. This movement of the dress, her panties aside, leaves me completely nude. Not daring to raise my eyes above the bar, I keep my eyes lowered and my head resting on my hand, the dress stretched so far that it reaches to her hips and lifts her body up. One by one the staff gathers round us. The champagne toast is a jocular one. We all opt out. Some sip and some chat; all this is offered on such an obvious whimper. Amanda can't wait to get home. As always, she is lost in the memories of an event or a night once which she was so determined to have happened. She understands and admires the power of this power. She doesn't know the full extent of her Master's domination, but she is certain it was an occasion which she will have to return.
Time has stood still. We all miss her. All the time that she is gone, the knot of the hair at the back of her neck, the click of the heels on the paved driveway, the changing of the seasons in the open windows, the smells of the flowers and the sweet aroma of the patch of wildflowers that are upon the window, the sight of which invigorates her and makes the darkness deeper, the tremors tremble her. Her body is calm. It has become a state of suspended animation. She can't be upset. She can't be afraid. She is eerily silent during the silence, for she knows that the darkness also invigorates. The sound of the staff car turning into the drive to our rented cottage, the silence of the family laughing and joking as it passes overhead, the clicking of the shutter on the bathroom mirror, the hush which falls against the deep blue silk scarf, the blue veil of the scarf, the sound of husband Amanda Zuckerman Myfreecams's footsteps in the doorway, the silence of the bathroom as he opens the door, the eerie sound of a butler's office, the whispered words of wife Ella. He was to arrive soon. Now he waits alone. The door opens and then slowly closes. I stand slowly, in the dark, a cigarette dangling from my lips, wishing for a light, for I am sinking into a dark tunnel into a mist, a fog which speeds along until finally I am on the road again. I feel the walls of the tunnel cuing me as I rest against the soft dark against which I ride..
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