Creaming Indian Sls

? She seemedvery confident, bordering on rude. Again, she never waited for me to answerbefore continuing. ?You usually do this with Christy, right?? She fit thecollar around my neck a little tight and I put my hand up to massage my neck. ?Don?t worry, I won?t choke you,? she laughed. I wonderedwho the hell she was anyway. Looking at her in the mirror, she certainlydressed like a hooker. She never adjusted the collar and it felt uncomfortablysnug around my neck. Attaching the lead, she gave a little tug and pulled meout of my seat. ?Ouch,? I complained, holding the collar. I noticed how Mompractically jumped out of the way when the woman walked past her. ?Get down,? she said strictly, pointing to the floor. Ifigured she was Christy?s replacement. Swallowing my pride, I got down on allfours. Rick was still leering at me from the corner. She walked purposelytowards the stage and pulled on my collar again. She was taking this whole dom thing a little too seriously, I thought to myself. Instinctively my head tracked to the source of the intoxicating scent which was to the left towards Sheri. She knew my attention was garnered. There was a smirk of confidence or better said, control, painted on Sheri's face. I took my second deep breath, this time sucking the air past my lips, down my throat and into my expanding chest. Sheri turned her gaze from the mirror behind the bar to my eyes. She watched my expression as I licked my lips and swallowed knowing that the buds of my tongue tasted the ravenous flavor of pussy. My gaze and Sheri's gaze mutually shifted downwards. Her knees had parted causing the hem of her skirt to rise exposing the flesh of her legs. What Sheri noted was a huge bulge below the belt fastened around the waistband of my trousers. Our stares stayed fixated for seconds as she sat and I stood frozen interpreting the visual and aromatic stimuli. The sound of the barista setting my beer glass on the wood surface caused Sheri and I to look up. We smiled at.
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