She had pledged herself to her beautiful friend for the night, and deep inside she knew that was what she wanted; to be her slave and plaything. Clai...e’s hands were shaking as she began to remove her clothes, pull down the zip behind her dress, and let the dark material slide down her body to the floor. She stepped out of her high heels, unclipped her stockings from her suspenders, and rolled the nylon down her long legs. Finally, she removed her underwear and slipped into Belinda’s bed, quite. Then he would go as deep as he could and lean all his weight on me, grinding his swollen cock inside of me. And while I sounded like the bitch in heat that I am, he was totally silent. He let his cock do all his talking.He must have been a heavy precummer because my cunt was turning into a gooey mess. It felt soooo good! He was churning it into butter! And the man had stamina. He was like the Energizer bunny: he kept going, and going, and going. I especially loved when he was pulling completely. She was beautiful, not only physically, but spiritually and emotionally.And when she died, a part of me was torn away.If not for my daughter, I think I may have given up, even though the mere thought of that would have horrified McKayla.So I cling to the things that remind me of her. I kept the house mostly as we had it before she died. Her car was basically mothballed until Maureen decided she wanted to drive it. I still come out to our spot on the beach and talk her as if she were right next. But not tonight. Sleep, my beauty, sleep."I was suddenly aware Mother had stopped brushing and put her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes were soft and loving as she always is with me, but there was a hint of concern around the corners."Thinking of your dream?" she asked."Yes, mother," I replied."Let's talk about real men. Mr. McLaren has invited us to spend the weekend at his house in the Hamptons."Archibald McLaren was a wealthy and powerful man. Mother was his mistress, yet so much more. She.