.. this slave would humbly ask if you could spend the rest of the weekend as Sir..." She faded out, not meeting my eye."Ann. Look at me." I said firml...y. Her head shot up. "What did I say last night about simpering acolytes?" Her eyes widened a bit."That ... um ... you didn't want any, Sir?" She looked a little worried."Exactly. Why did you ask me like that?" I said in a gentler tone. I didn't like that 'this slave' bullshit, but I needed to know if it was something she wanted."I guess I was. I won’t insult my readers intelligence by saying I hadn’t rehearsed this moment, I had, either alone in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom, or in front of Jim after a nights working the normal pub trade. Doing it for this large, hyped up audience was a different prospect entirely. I had taken the advice that Chris and Bernie had given me onboard and had worked out a routine that I was now about to put into practice. I took Chantelle to one side and told her that the Underworld, Born. You've all worked hard all semester. It's not illegal here, so let's let them enjoy. We'll just be careful to make sure nothing gets out of hand." Heather was doubly surprised by both his uncharacteristically carefree attitude as well as his use of "we."Heather was about to question him further, when Emily entered the room with a wheelchair. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm supposed to take Dr. Walters down to the therapy suite now." Emily looked nervously at the pair sitting on opposite ends of. Mike began to thrust forward. With every stroke, Angela would push back causing him to go deeper inside her. Her face became flush as she held onto the corner of the counter. Mike’s energy and force excited Angela. Her nipples became rock hard and pressed through her bra. Staring at the hallway door, Angela knew at any minute she could get caught, but at that moment she didn’t care. Mike continued to thrust away, sending Angela closer to orgasm. His hot breath.