My Dirty Indian Lover

"Practice?" "Yes practice... what turns you on Roger? The whip? Cane? Flogger? Tying a girl up in knots? Treating someone like a baby? A fuck-toy? Berating someone? Spanking them?" "Um." "It takes practice. One needs the tools of the trade before one can consider oneself a craftsman." "I can understand that too." "So you will need to practice whatever it is you want to do. Organise some of your life around the pursuit of your own gratification." "I can't believe I've been thinking about the same thing... well kind of..." "A dominant is a 'doer' Roger. Good dominants make things happen," said Chantelle, "Claudio and I have been in the lifestyle a long time now. We are also successful people. We have successful friends. And one needn't measure success by wealth, but more by the happiness of the person in their given pursuit, and the happiness they experience in their relationships." "I see." I really did. "So let's say a submissive person comes up and says 'I've been bad, will you. When I came to, I lazily looked down. My skirt was at my waist with my legs spread as far as they could within the confines of the large chair. Clearly in view, in the bright light, was my pussy, only partly covered by my twisted panties. The red pubic hair clashed with the pink undergarment.Looking around in a daze, my eyes focused on the man's lap. Where is it? I wondered. His cock was back in his pants, but the bulge told me it was still hard. Why is it hidden?"Please?" I begged out loud in a lust-filled whisper.The man stood and stepped around the table. He held out his hand and I took it. Tugging me to my feet, he pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it like a gentleman of old. Then he wrapped his lips around my finger and sucked -- the finger that I had just used to masturbate. I felt my knees go weak knowing he tasted me.Releasing my hand, the man dropped to his knees. I flinched when I felt his palms on my bare skin sliding up the outside of my thighs, but I didn't move away..
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