Hopia's heartbeat rose in crescendo, as he watches Aurora who stood abovehim slowly unzipping her skirt. Aurora remain standing on Hopia's chest evenw...ile she deftly step out of her skirt and revealing herself before the frustrateHopia the glorious splendor of her mouthwatering creamy white thighs and longperfectly shape legs. Hopia gasped at the wonderful sight above him. He has never seen such perfectset of legs before. And Aurora's magnificent thighs were even more exposedespecially with the. They had done it in my house and I could tell was my sister who started it-just a hunch. In the video, my son didn't miss a beat. Neither did she. His head rolled back as she started to lick his cock, starting with the tip and then shaft and finally swallowing as much of it as she could down her throat. She was meticulous in making sure her tongue covered square inch of his throbbing member. I didn’t know my sister loved sucking cocks. The way she was sucking my son was more than what I had. In my novel I also strove to avoid the clichés I have seen in some other FemDom literature, for example, at no point did Cecilia try to feminize Jason, turn him into a child, or cut him off from the outside world. Cecilia started out as a dominant character, but unlike Ruth Burnside, she was never a typical dominatrix. Instead she was driven by the intense fear, imbedded in her during her childhood, a phobia of losing control over her life. As the novel progressed, I further explored Cecilia's. “You weren't kidding. I've never seen pasta that black that wasn't burned.”“Well, it's not burned,” I grinned, digging into my baked ziti. “Burnt pasta would be the death of any Italian place. Go on, try it. Tell me what you think.”She wound the black noodles around her fork, held them up for a moment, stared, then pushed them into her mouth, a small trickle of the ink staying on her lips. A momentary chew, then a swallow, and she spoke. “Definitely new, but I like it.”I smiled. “I thought you.