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Role reversal as a Mistress and her slave play with water.

The flavor and the taste was bigger, bolder and louder than anything I had ever eaten.

Michael brought the glass to my lips again. This time, he sucked on my tongue and my lips as if he was trying to taste any remnants of the wine that was left behind, and then pulled away. I leaned forward to properly finish that kiss, wanting to suck in his tongue and curl around it tightly with the intent to not let it go.

Then I felt the soft and lightest touch of two of his fingers trail on top of my open pussy lips, from the bottom to the top, making a quick and deliberate flip over my clit over the lace of my panties. I let out the biggest sigh over that one brief touch. The nerve endings of my lips and inner walls created a low running buzz from the wetness with which it came in contact. When I realized his hand pulled away and wasn't coming back, I only had the strength and spirit to barely whisper, "More, please."

My body began to tense again as did my breathing. When that didn't work as a cue to touch me, I began to flail my legs.

"If you only knew how hard it is for me not to take that pussy as my own, but I've never seen you more beautiful than you are now," he said. "You're the picture of elegance trapped raw, yearning lust I won't get to see if I have my way with you, but if you'll allow me one small indulgence ..."

His hand trailed up my torso to one of my breasts and slid its way through the top of my corset and squeezed my breast firmly. I threw my head back and let out a low, soft moan. Right before I could completely let out my breath, he pinched my nipple and slipped a finger under the warm and damp crotch of my panties and between my extremely slippery lips. I could swear I was dripping on his finger.

I slid my hips toward him to guide him to probe deeper and clenched my inner walls to lock in his finger. His finger twisted as it tried to pull out. Perhaps he really wasn't in as much control as he thought. Or maybe he was.

I could feel him come face-to-face with me with his lips brushing up against my lips as he mouthed these words: "You really want my tongue to probe you deep inside? To drink from your juices that flow so freely?"

"Yes," I sighed.

He nudged his finger a bit further inside and asked, "Or do you want my finger?"

"Yes!" I commanded.

He slipped a second finger inside, forced both of them inside deeper still with his fingertips pressing on the contours, and asked, "Or do you want two fingers?"

The intensity of what I was feeling was almost more than I could handle. My response was a loud and unequivocal: "Yes!"

My walls clenched tighter as he stroked them in an out. I knew by the soft and loan groan that was coming out of the bottom of my throat that I was about to come hard at any change of touch, rhythm or sound.

A third finger invaded my hole and sent me screaming. I could not contain any level of control inside my body or my mind as his fingers plunged in and out of me and his firm thumb circled over my clit relentlessly. I could feel myself climaxing like never before, but I just couldn't completely let go. I couldn't stop screaming. I couldn't find the end of what I was feeling and I didn't want to, not even when the pace of Michael's probing fingers slowed and pulled out gently one at a time.

When my heart beat and breathing came back to normal, Michael kissed me on the lips and asked in his most tender voice, "Do you need me to unlatch you?"

I nodded. It was only then that I realized that my arms felt achy and sore. He unlatched the wrist cuffs from the chains and my arms dropped limp. He took each arm and moved it back and forth, up and down until they felt flexible and limber again. He gave me sips of champagne until my mouth felt fully hydrated again.

He laid me on my back and kissed me as he took my hands above my head and locked my wrists together. My legs, which were still secured taught at each end of the foot of the bed, exposed the opening to my drenched pussy even wider to him and the cool room air.

"You are a disheveled mess, my dear, and

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