Just the thought of her eyes on him while he performed upon the girl had him hard and aching. After, when the girl was done, then it would be Michelle...s turn.Would she come to him willingly? He hoped not, at least not at first. He could imagine how she would look when she was being punished. He wouldn't be as rough on her as he had others. She was different. He would just have to be more inventive. He had the books, books on bondage, on autoerotica, on sexual enslavement. He mentally rubbed his. She wore a camel hair jacket of thehighest quality; of course styled for a woman. Her skirt, knee length,was a fine grey flannel and her blouse was a poet's shirt in a pearlpink silk opened enough to show modest cleavage. She wore a woman'sstyled pair of cordovan penny loafers that matched her belt and kneehigh grey woolen socks. She wore no jewelry other than an expensivegold sports woman's Rolex."Please...come in," I pled though I did manage to smile. For a verybrief moment I thought that. More

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