Mistress stood in front of her. Her presence alone forced you to look down and meet her gaze. Their eyes met again. This was going to be very good,...or very bad, or both if there was even a difference. Mistress explained the guidelines, rules and limits. Being a Mistress herself outside of the club this was all stuff she had said before, but never really heard. She nodded in agreement and the required safe word was given knowing that it would never be needed. And so the session began. The. I imagine how absurd I must look to her, clad in a sissy dress with eyeshadow, lipstick, and a frilly maid’s cap. Yet still my erection throbs beneath my dress, being this close to her. Seeing her manicured toes, taut tummy and tan legs inches from my face, her bikini-clad crotch at eye level. ?You needn’t get up slave, I’ve brought the dirt to you,? she says, suppressing a giggle. I barely had my mouth open when she shoved her finger inside. I taste nothing but the slight saltiness of skin,. In your rhythmic response I realize that this is the perfect medium for this composition. As I gently align my bow to your awaiting tranquillity, you begin to make a harmonious reverberation of pleasure. Like the solo in a Kenny G song, your moans resonate through the house. As I draw my bow across your fine instrument this causes your melody to flow more complex, more urgent as the vibrations of my bow echo within your body. Your voice rings out in a song of pure pleasure as my bow reaches. I quickly hid the bags and kicked around the remaining beer cans so it wasn’t as obvious that I had a party. I walked to the door and opened it. There stood Ms. Robinson, my next door neighbor.“Hey Brad. I came over to ask if you needed any help cleaning up?”“Um… I don’t know what you mean,” I lied nervously.“Oh come on Brad, you think I don’t know what a party sounds like? I live next door for crying out loud. I know you had a party and I thought you might like some help cleaning up.”“Well,.