You stroked my hair and gave me little kisses on top of my head while I cried and cried. It was so hard, Sir! Especially when, after what seemed like hours of moaning, whimpering and wordless begging on my part, but couldn’t have been more than a minute or so, Your gaze intensified as You finally said, “Come for me, Nadine. I had no idea that You’d put that picture on my phone; I barely remembered You even taking it. It was so hard, Sir! Once again I did not have time to pull up my pantyhose so I waddled somewhat as I walked over to greet them. – to masturbate for You and be nothing but Your little slut again. It was as if you were using them to pull me to my feet. And now, of course, I’m back in my office writing all of this to You, having finally made myself get dressed again and walk, on wobbly legs, the several blocks back into town.
