He fully expected them to be of the usual mundane type: “How old are you?” “What do you look like?” “How do you earn your living?” or mayb... “Where do you live?” But she asked none of these. She wanted to know about his likes and dislikes. And his views on punishment. And what he looked for in a slave. Slave. He disliked that word. It harkened back to the world of games, of D/s, of B&D, that he had grown weary of and had left behind. He recalled her first letters explaining how his story,. They got to their floor and climbed out, Frankie’s legs shaking with the effect he had had on her body in the lift.He swiftly opened the door, arms around her again kissing her, undoing her jeans and removing her t-shirt before they had even got in.He pushed the door shut and fell straight to his knees in front of her, jeans around her ankles, pussy seeping juice through her pants, his tongue met her pussy, as he licked over the material she pushed herself into him, moving down and pulling her. More

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