"So you are seeing me like a woman and not as your mother" she asked?"Yes, that's true" he replied."That's good and I accept your compliments. But tel... me how different I am from others" she asked."Well you have a lovely face and you look attractive in every respect" he replied eyeing her figure and commenting on it."Do I look attractive in this dress" she asked looking at the old sari she had wrapped around?"Yes" he replied."Then I may look better in some of the rich saris" she said."I think. Yet here he was in person, no larger or stronger or more imposing than the average man I'd meet in the street.But I had a role to play."Good evening to you, Mr. Ashley," I said, still my adopted Charleston-ese to the core; over the years it had become second nature. "But I'm unaware that we've met. It's probably my fault, I'm forgetful of faces, will you remind me?" Give it up, Jack, it's me, Richard," he said. "We're here to take you in." 'Take me in?'" I said, letting a little surprise creep. He doesn’t get that at all, but when I see him in a tight T-shirt I can barely catch my breath.Yes, I am a mostly sexually submissive woman that likes to switch occasionally. Kink-fearing folks: this does not mean victimized, put-upon, or abused. I’ve known what I like since I was in my early teens. The fact that I was raped as an adult didn’t make me submissive. My rapist, like a lot of abusers, fantasized a pre-existing relationship with me, fucked me against my will (in the missionary. As I kissed her inner thigh, I brought my hand down that I was using to cup her breast to the wet spot between her legs and traced a finger over it. She moaned even more as my finger tickled her there and was dampened with her sexual fluid. My cock was now throbbing.I worked my down her long tanned leg, caressing it with my lips as I used to do. I looked up and Miranda had already come out of her bra and was massaging her breasts with her hands. They were just as perky and her nipples were.