Her nails were immaculately painted, and her hair felt amazingly soft when he secured it into a net. It was impossible not to become aroused as he saw...her pert breasts moving up as she breathed rhythmically. He needed to divert his gaze from the girl, and as he saw the discarded clothes lying on the floor, he said quickly, “These carbon boots are custom made, and they are much better than the ones with the outfit. She should keep those.”Olga answered indifferently, “Yeah, whatever. Let’s get on. Because you did not stop on command, I must discipline you. I tell you to bend over the table again. Your pussy is wet, and you are nervous and very turned on. You like to submit to a man like me, it arouses you. Your ass is there, smooth and ready for me. I stand next to you, holding your hair firmly, and start shoving a dildo into your wet cunt, fast and hard. The first time it goes in, you can't get over the intense sensations. I tell you that you may not climax without my permission, and I. . the only problem is, you will be moving away from everything you know.What did you care about here-?Well, it's mostly you; you're a good looking guy, a little over six feet tall. You have dyed black hair and masculine, slightly gaunt facial features. You wore a lot of plaid or checkerboard stuff, skinny jeans, studded leather belts... you used to have some sneakers, but you've found you like boots better. You like to be different.But you think about someone else. Not your ex-girlfriends; you. Why can't she just say this? Why "push" an envelope at all, and not break it, or open it, or just exceed it?My lady interrupts my deliberations of her linguistic gymnastics by putting her cutlery on the ceramic plate with a clatter. "Decent," she told me – the nearest thing I would ever get to a compliment on a Friday – "but the vegetables were overcooked." I nodded in agreement; I could do little else and she supped her wine. Her ruby red hair fell back from her face as she drained the scarlet.