She asked what I was doing. I did not answer. I gently parted her legs and went down on her. She did not object. I put my face between her legs and th...ught I just wanted do to this for a moment or two. Her pussy was moist, and musty smelling. It tasted good. She had rather large pussy lips. She did not make any noise. My hand found it way under her flannel and I started massaging her tits. I rolled her nipple between my fingers, they were long and thick, just like her daughters'. She just. ”“I know...” she murmured, staring unblinking at the holographic map. “I’m just ... not sure if I can do this.”He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave the pensive brunette a supportive smile. “We discussed this. You already know what you want to say to him.” He turned and glanced at the chronometer. “We have another two hours to wait until the Wormhole Generator is recharged. Do not initiate contact until that time ... if the Invictus appears to be leaving the system before then, inform me. He is quite a figure, classically handsome and certainly full of white male self-confidence. He was born rich, and then made a bunch more money, and he’s been on the front cover of Fortune magazine and all that good shit. But I guess he needs to be reminded that he’s just a pitiful, insecure little twerp, and who better to do it than I? I remember when he first came to see me, he was a little put off by all my tattoos, I guess the other professional Mistresses he had visited were more put. We both had other friends now and at ten or eleven years old, the opposite sex was taboo. You did not admit to knowing them, let alone liking them. So, telling people that Julie was my “wifey” would have been the source of endless ridicule. Thus, the nicknames became a personal private secret between us.High SchoolThe year we both turned fourteen, Julie started high school. Although Julie was a year ahead of me in school, we were actually only a few months apart in age. My birthday was late in.