"I'm busy," I said, pulling her onto my lap and spreading her legs outside my thighs. She held on to her half-filled glass and smiled and sipped as I ...ried to get my rearing ram back into her tiny crevice and wrinkled lips while she wiggled and waggled on my knees, bouncing with pleasure and anticipation as my engorged member succeeded only in stimulating her fluttering one.Finally she drained her glass, leaned back to set it down and then rose and let her pouting nether lips gobble me up. She. Not elaborate at all. It didn't carry my mark. The point was the pain and fear.She had been propped up so that she could watch what I was doing. She was trembling with fear, but she still hadn't begged.I was between her legs, slowly stroking her clit. At least some of her trembling had to have come from that. This was the tail end of one of those hour-long sessions I’d mentioned.I used my other hand to gesture at the brand. "Once I pick this up, I will use it. If you beg for mercy now, I'll. The gate creaked open from a sudden burst of wind. With the wind came the scent of candy apples and popcorn. I could see the carnival rides in the distance. Their lights surged on, and within my view, I saw the tents. But they were not the obnoxious red and yellow circus tents. They were faded and in various hues of black, white, and grey. My eyes caught a shadow that moved within the maze of fabric. I felt like Alice following the white rabbit. Within the tents and booths arose a strange. She said that she was stopped in a parking lot on her way to a session and had her schedule in front of her. I wanted to get together with her on a weeknight for a short session and a weekend night for a long session. After about five minutes of discussion, we agreed that starting the next week, she and I would get together twice a week – on Tuesdays from 7-10 PM and on Saturday at 7 PM until Sunday at 11 AM. We further agreed that we would get fucked up every Saturday night, since she would be.