Rahda is running late for her Friday night love-fest with Gabrielle. The anticipation is nearly unbearable, for only Gabrielle can satisfy her intense craving for the whip . . . and the hunger for her exquisite touch.
Special Content Alert: Lesbian, Spanking
Sitting at my desk, I try hard not squirm in my chair. My overactive imagination is wreaking havoc with my normally focused mind today. I can't stop thinking about Gabrielle's phone call last night.
"Wear something filmy on top, a see-through blouse, and perhaps a short leather skirt." Her voice resonates in my head this morning. "And no panties."
I shift in the chair again and a soft moan slips out. Not my usual work attire, but I dare not disobey and ruin my chance to see her again after work. Images flood my brain, a montage of snapshots from the last time we met. Gabrielle molded and kneaded my young body until I turned to putty in her hands. Then she took me to the center of the universe and back, and perhaps even to an unknown realm in the far reaches of outer space. An unnamed organ below my belly clenches and sends out tentacles of lightning to the center of my pussy. A wave of dizziness forces my eyes shut, and I shake my head to clear the erotic images.
What could she be planning tonight? I reach for a file at the corner of my desk and the silk blouse caresses a nipple. It springs to life and hardens into a little nub. My skirt shifts too, and I'm acutely aware of the scent of my sex, a pleasant, musky aroma that reminds me of the dampness between my legs . . . a heat-seeking moisture that throbs with need.
I glance at the wall clock and my heartbeat accelerates. Fifteen minutes before it strikes 5:00 p.m., and then another thirty minutes maneuvering through downtown traffic. Forty-five minutes before I'll be at Gabrielle's condo.
Be with her.
The anticipation nearly paralyzes me.
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