Elizabeth set her cup down and turned towards the side of the spa. Kneeling on the bench, she positioned herself so that the jet was pulsing directly ...on her clitoris. The moans that emanated from her would arouse anyone. "Oh Cindy, come here. Please, hold me in place," she begged. I set my cup of wine down and moved behind her. I knew precisely what she wanted. I positioned myself behind her and wrapped my arms around her. pushing her into the pulsating jet. Elizabeth was rocking her hips now. I moved again probing. She was wet, dripping wet so wet that it was sopping the sheets and inside her thighs. I moved up from the valley of her engorge clit sensitive to any touch up through the forest and back up on her. I kissed her and let her taste herself. She devoured my kisses and as she did I guided my head between her soft hot folds. She stared at me with deep brown eyes shimmering. There was anticipation in her gaze as I pushed. I could be rough or be gentle. I pushed slowly. She. Anna told me that one magazine or another pestered her weekly about when we'd get 'serious' or get married or have babies. She had a stock answer that we were exceptionally good friends, and didn't have any plans beyond staying that way. She'd often throw in a teaser, such as, 'Of course, that could change at any time.' She'd laugh and usually change the subject.Anna and I were passionate. I did entertain marrying her, but she was on her own rocket ship, as I was, and Hollywood marriages were. Phoenix planted me on her side by saying something about the two women being my slave girls from Friday night to Monday morning. Devon's head turned when Phoenix negotiated to blow-jobs being acceptable and going on a shopping trip with Devon for slave girl paraphernalia.The Slave Girl Weekend was a thank you for helping Devon, which had been mostly Phoenix's idea but I did not plan to say shit. Phoenix's participation had to do with the very honest dialogue I inspired her husband to start.