”“Yes sir.” She couldn’t lie. She did enjoy it. Lying would make it worse. Confessing the complete truth seemed her only option. And righ....“Maybe you like being dominant more than being submissive? Is that it? Are you tired of being submissive? Tired of being MY submissive?” The questions were speculative but tinged with an accusation.“NO Sir! No, I am not tired of being your submissive sir. I love being submissive to you,” she protested.“How about you Jenny? Maybe you are done with. Out on my bike, north to the twisty roads and the country.You on behind me, not riding yours today but relaxing on the back.I can feel you tight to me, your hands around on my thighs, moving with me through the corners.An open stretch of road and quiet, no traffic. I run my left hand up your leg and up your thigh. Along in behind me I find you hot and wet sitting there. I run my fingers over your wet pussy through your jeans. A light touch to start, but then harder and deeper, stroking, rubbing. Eventually I wouldwant to marry and have kids, but sex would be my first priority. Gottatry out that new vagina! I would sleep in long, silky nightgowns or fantasy teddies that leavenothing to the imagination. I would adore wearing sleek slips under mydresses and flashing my stockings and cleavage to just the right men. Nocute guys would escape my notice and if they find their way to my bedyou can guarantee they're going feel my lips around their cocks beforethey get to fuck me. And they. ''Tongue fuck me Mick!'' She demanded and I slid my tongue into her sopping wet hole, ''Can you taste it Mick?'' She said grinding her pussy against my face, I made some kind of groaning noise in answer to her, too into what I was doing to take my mouth away and speak the words. She then grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, she looked down at me with a cruel smile and asked me the same question, ''I asked, can you taste it?'' She said her cruel smile growing into a a giggle. ''Tell me, how.