I hear my Mistress thanking people and people saying their good-byes. After about 15 minutes, the room is quiet. My Mistress returns. She pulls off my...veil, and then unlocks the O-ring gag around my head. My jaws ache as she withdraws it. It seems like my mouth has been open for hours."Well slave, I hope you liked your fantasy" she says. "Oh Mistress, I can't believe you have done this for me. It was the most incredible scene I could have ever imagined. How did you get everyone to participate?". I enrolled on a psychology course in the search for even the hint of an answer. I was hoping for Maslow and Jung, got Skinner and Pavlov instead.That's where I met him.I was hardly out of my teens, drawn to him in spite of myself. There was something about Sean beyond gender. I was captivated by his fairness of flesh, his startling blue eyes, the flaxen hair that hung fine and straight to his collar. He had a lithe physique that belied hidden strength. It was that of a dancer. His face had yet. Mr. Axelrod was quite exhausted from his spirited duties to attend to his new secretary's training.She rose up slowly from her erotic position on the desktop. Mr. Axelrod handed her the offending lipstick without comment. Mindful of her new role, Allison kissed Mr. Axelrod's hand and walked a little unsteadily back to her post guarding Mr. Axelrod's inner sanctum.She sat down very tenuously and realized her panties were sopping wet with her own pussy juices. The image of Mr. Axelrod's arms. She was gorgeous. Light brown hair and golden brown eyes; her complexion was rich. A dark tan washed her smooth skin, and a lack of freckles gave her face and arms a porcelain look. I watched her as she nursed a beer and made small talk with the older man next to her, and couldn't help but to feel extremely attracted. I finished my beer and asked the bartender what the gal was drinking. "Stella Artois" was all she said as she looked at me. I suddenly realized that I had been so wrapped up in.
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