Blurb:Mina knows that after several years with her vanilla husband she's never going to get the hot and heady sexual experiences she craves unless she looks elsewhere. During their divorce Mina is willing to risk everything for a heart pounding, head exploding orgasm. She embarks on a sexual journey of self fulfillment and submission that could only play out in her wildest fantasies. There is no turning back.
Warnings: This title contains strong language, kidnap scenario, BDSM and mindgames.
Casually, I brought up the email and re-read it. It made my fingertips tingle. I dialed up the scent on my vanilla plug-in, worried Marla in the other booth could smell the excitement seeping through my orange cotton underwear. Without thinking my fingertips strayed along the edges of my thigh, under my skirt, and inside my underwear at my pulsating p*ssy, swiping up the scent with a small dip into the fabric and then up to my nose. Before I could hesitate an email box was in my display and my p*ssy stained fingers were flying over the keys as if possessed.
First off, thank you so much for the compliments! It was nice to log-in to such gentlemanly behavior. As for my pictures, yes they were professionally done in one of my favorite dungeons in NYC, Pandora's Box. As a lifer within the BDSM lifestyle community I'm a regular there. Some would even say they know me by name, if that name happens to be "b*tch", "slut", or "c*nt". Colorful language is such a turn-on. Anyway, I would love to meet you for a cup of coffee sometime to discuss our opinions on the culture. I also just broke out of a serious relationship and I'm looking for a permanent Master liaison for long-term. Let me know if you want to audition
Within seconds I was staring at a glowing wall of "SENT" displayed on my monitor. In terror and with a whole new level of adrenaline I realized I had just sent a naughty email at my workplace. After sniffing vaginal juices on my fingertips. Touching myself at work. The overwhelming need to masturbate and dip further into this illicit streak hit me like an on-coming train. Rather than getting off in the public stalls that smelled like Maybelline products and hairspray I walked to my boss's desk and called out sick. For the whole f**king week. I needed a little alone time after my sexual office breakdown.