But I would wear that perfume you use. What is it again, "Street Punk?" Good idea," he said, distractedly. "But can I use your transponder dear? There...s often long lines at the public transponder down the hall."She sighed, "You'd better I guess. But get back here in lots of time now, hear?" Then she paused. "Hey? I can see that you're jumpy and all wound up. Hold on a minute."With that, she went back to her desk and punched in a number on the teletrans. A deep feminine voice answered almost. Reaching up between my legs with her free hand she squeezed my lubricant coated ball’s sack before wrapping her fingers around the limp shaft of my cock to begin stroking it in unison with the rhythm of the arse fucking dildo. Just like she was doing before when she had her thumb up my arse. From her expertise with a wilted dick, Kandy was able to stimulate and encourage more man blood to pump up through my somewhat lifeless cock. Her experience at this was obvious as she took her time to make. ‘I won’t even ask about how you found me,’ I remarked as I handed her the drink and sat at the other end of the sofa. I looked at her as she was coiled up amongst the leather cushions – she reminded me of a cobra that waited in its basket to be released. The question remained though – how would she react once the lid was removed. ‘I must commend you on your choice of décor,’ she stated, casting her eye around the room. ‘Art deco – very tasteful.’ She took a sip from the glass and nodded in an. Mistress was clearly in her element as if Mistress was just going to check something in the garage. Her clothes reflected this idea of normality as Mistress wore shorts and a shirt, with sneakers and socks. I suppose there wasn’t really any need to dress up to do what Mistress wanted, after all Mistress wasn’t trying to impress me, Mistress just wanted to use me. The thought of this made me rock hard. Mistress began by turning two handles which pulled my cuffed legs in either direction.