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Her legs spread with juices oozing from her swollen cunt, Patricia was panting heavily. This was so perfect! He was so confident, so assertive! Mr. Kobayashi poured himself some warm saki. He called out something in Japanese, and looked expectantly at the doorway through which the young man had disappeared. The young man reappeared, bowed deeply, and said something in reply. Mr. Kobayashi tossed down the saki, smiled, and poured himself another cup. “Come,” he said as he brushed past the young man. Leaving her dress and bra, Patricia followed him through the darkened corridor, into a brightly lit room. The large number of expansive windows gave an impressive view, even this late in the evening. One wall had a large fireplace. In addition to a daybed, the room was furnished with a tanzu with a music system, a small table and matching chair, and a large wooden St. Andrew’s cross, with a chain and manacles attached to each arm. “Right hand.” Patricia complied and Mr. Kobayashi. His hands began to roam up under the warm dressing gown, cupping the nearest breast in a way that said he was grateful of the opportunity and not going to waste the chance! Her hands did nothing to stop him, cupping the back of his head, and holding him to her by now hot lips, just letting his hands roam over her upper body through the nightdress as he wished. Her nipples stiffened, till they ached, his fingers found the nubs and gently pinched at them both, oh it was so good to have a man who cared once again clawing at her body. She moaned, a moan of deep satisfaction. He lay her back and his hand slid under her nightdress, it slid up her leg not the legs of any supermodel I grant you but smooth soft, and feminine, slowly opening to his touch. He slid to the floor, kneeling at the altar of that old sofa, easing his left hand along her inner leg till it got to her crutch, her pubic hair, her wet slot of life, her eyes closed, he hoped in extasy!Her mind reeling, what was she doing,.
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