"Sweetie, mommy can't give you milk. It's all gone. You drank it all up when you were just a baby. I can't make any more milk unless I have another ba...y. Do you understand?" He calmed down some but I could tell he didn't buy it.Paul must've realized he wasn't going to convince his mother, so he ceased his struggles and pouted giving her his best sad eyes. He often used this tactic when he wanted something he couldn't have. When he saw it wasn't going to work this time, Paul made like he was. She finds nothing to arouse her: not him, not her own thoughts, not even her link-induced need."Excellent. Now, here, come to the living room with me."Cassie considers returning to the line, regardless of how it may affect the man's sanity. For now, she is content to sense that her tether is still there.He places his hands on her shoulders and guides her forward. She enters a sunken living room, the furnishings plush and opulent. Her steps are wobbly on the thick carpet.He stops near the center. As you sip your drink, I allow my hand and fingers to roam over your body, hidden by the table. As I more insistently stroke your pussy through your silky pants, your excitement quickly climbs and you are on the verge of cumming. You half-heartedly push my hand away, but I am insistent. Finally, you abandon yourself, and your head lolls back against the booth as the orgasm hits you. You bite your lip, your muscles tighten, and your breathing quickens. Anyone who cares to look can see that you. If she'd been wearing a pair of navy pantyhose I'd nip into the bathroom instead of her bedroom and fish them out of the laundry hamper. I'd then jack off with them wrapped around my shaft, not worrying about shooting my seed into them because I'd then quickly rinse them out and put them back into the hamper. Sometimes she wouldn't remove her pantyhose just change into her tracksuit bottoms then go sit downstairs and dangle her slippers. On these occasions I would leave my friend upstairs.