The clear fluid in my hastily purchased second glass splashes my shirt, drenching me, plastering the light silk to my body in a cold rush. This makes ...e hiss in anger.Mortified, you fumble an apology, face beet-red, even in the dim light. Grabbing some napkins, you try to swab off the mess. Tears fill your eyes, trembling on the lashes and threaten to slip down your flushed cheeks. With a low growl, I grasp your hand in my wrist, fingers easily encircling you, feeling your pulse pounding as you. She dropped it to the floor and stepped out of it. Running her hands over her slick breasts, she slipped out of her shoes and reached behind her back. She unclasped her bra and added it to the pile of clothes on the floor. Her breasts seemed to leap out of the bra and her nipples were pointing straight at me. I just stood there and watched her shiny breasts as she bent over and picked up her uniform. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m staring at a woman and getting really horny. But, damn. Ginger dressed me in new clothes, all obscene: leggings with "bitch" written all over it, new and very expensive designer sneakers, a top with 'slave' written in phosphorescent yellow letters to cover my breasts. No bra, no panties, no thong. At the door of the boutique, Gabriela was waiting for me, now dressed in leather with high-heeled boots. I could barely walk, but tried to keep going. When I walked through the door I turned to see Gabriela. I don't know what she saw in my eyes, what she. " 'Cuddle bunny, cuddle, '" I said, interrupting Shirley, giving her the "go ahead" phrase from earlier. (Shirley only knew the first two words of that phrase, which allowed us to discuss it.) Immediately after giving her the cue, I pulled her to me and kissed her, pulling her naked body on top of mine. This time, the "manufactured" orgasm was mixed with the feeling of closeness and intimacy that Shirley claimed was missing from her previous cuddle bunny orgasms, and she kissed me back as she.