I was somehow her idealized version."So, do I get to call you, "tits" now?" Trish had come up beside me as I gaped in the mirror. Dark hair, pale face... I felt like I was somehow what Eimear had always wished she was. What Lesley had always wished her lover was."Fuck y ... sorry ... just a bit..." I snarled out, before checking the hostile impulse. I had called Trish "tits" to her face, and looking over the body I now possessed, her returning the favor was being, if anything, understated. She. My thumbs stroke across your sensitive arsehole, teasing it and slathering it in lube. Another sharp "SMACK"!!!....and more intense heat and that momentary buzz of pain and adrenaline. God but you love this sweet torture. My voice, throaty with sexual passion, asks if you want more. “Yes,” you moan, “please give me more.” With that permission, you feel my fingers push inside you and stretch you further. "MY GOD!“ you cry inside your mind. You wonder how I made you crave this feeling of being. More

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