I've never fedher before, and she doesn't know exactly how to respond. As she eats, I runmy fingers through her hair, enjoying the silky feel. "Why do...you serve me," the question comes from nowhere, surprising me almostas much as it does her. "Master?" "You do all that I demand, without hesitation," I say softly, unsure of wherethis is going, "I enjoy the control that I have over you, as well as the servitudeof a beautiful woman." She blushes once more – she never was good ataccepting. As I walked up to the door I could hear them talking. And faint moaning. I was standing on his porch about to open the door and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my mom on John's lap with her nipples in his mouth. My duck was instantly hard again. After a few minutes I wondered what to do and if someone was watching me standing there watching them when I saw my mom get up and get on her knees and pull down his joggers, revealing his cock. Mine is 8 and his must of been 10+ and thick. Fuck. As Sarah’s tongue worked its way inside me, every now and then flicking my sensitive clit with the tip and driving me into a frenzy of lust, I lifted my hands to my shoulders. I slipped my fingers under the noodle straps that delicately held my dress and in one easy movement lowered them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to fall. My firm, swollen breasts fell free. My pink and engorged nipples were pointing firmly and insistently into the air. I began to massage my breasts. Between my legs. I left out the restroom and went back to the bar at the opposite end from Donna. Jamal came out a couple of minutes later. He look across the bar and spotted Donna. Donna was just sitting at the bar moving her head to the music. Jamal walked up to her and started talking to her. I could see he made the gesture to go dance. Donna shook her head no. No! I said to myself. After all the work I did to get you to dance and you said no! I am a sob. But Jamal was not taking no for an answer. I could.
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