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We had recently gotten into a heated debate which ended in a stupid fight. I was giving him the ultimate silent treatment by freezing him out, but it backfired, instead of him chasing after me, he simply ignored my slight attempts to make up. I secretly wanted him to apologize for some hurtful things he had said, and craved his attention. I missed his touch and wanted his sweet mouth on mine... Eventually, as much as I hated to admit it, I decided to try a different approach because I was beginning to feel uncontrollably turned on whenever I was around him, but still wanted to keep up the charade of playing hard to get. I had put on my favorite black strapless bra that hugged my breasts perfectly, causing a bit of cleavage to show under my tight light colored blouse. On my hips and legs I wore a short jean skirt that perfectly fit my curvy 24 year old body with a tiny bit of my mid drift peeking between the skirt and blouse, turning every man’s head who glanced my way while I walked. Thinking about the pleasure and the lessons he’d imparted. But he’d had no satisfaction. She needed to please The Master. His smile at that thought was obvious. It lit the room. She felt his approval, both at her endurance and her desire to please him, reverberate in her core. Wanting to show him her absolute surrender Melissa turned around and climbed up on the table. Her ass was on fire, but it only served to stoke the flames of lust she felt. She laid her head back, spread her arms to the side, and let her legs fall apart, opening her quivering opening to The Master’s gaze. He liked that. She could feel him draw close to look at her, the aftershocks still causing her lips to pulse and shake. She wanted badly to reach out and pull The Master into her. She wanted him to fuck her stupid. To leave her lolling and wasted like she had some sort of sexual lobotomy. But that was not what she was here for. Melissa knew she was here to be used. And if The Master.
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