I’m squirming and quickly approaching orgasm, and your fingers are speeding up while the vibrator is slowing and focusing exactly on my clit. I’m ...gasping, but I manage not to cry out as your fingers bring me closer and closer to orgasm. “Are you going to cum, whore?” You grunt, and I nod immediately. “Tell me.”“I’m going to cum, Sir-“ I gasp, and you yank all four fingers out and positively crash all five fingers into my pussy, forcing half your hand between my lips. I buck and whimper, softly,. The girl would be working a few hundred miles away, and I would provide food and housing for her. This was true in a way. The lodging was in my home. I told the girl, Maria, that she could either run the household for a salary, or become my mistress. She would have a month to decide what our relationship would be. From the moment that we left the aunt's home, I tried to be as courteous and romantic as possible, to win her over. After two weeks of intense wooing and attention,. A kitchen had never been her thing; her idea of a home-cooked meal was barely more than heating a prepared dinner in a microwave. But these rich people were eating in the kitchen, big and elegant as it was, it was still a kitchen. She knew that the major was rich, and with them living in a place like this, certainly he had the means to have any number of servants, yet there didn't appear to be any. She had passed a beautifully appointed dining room, but they were eating like ... just ordinary. He was just someone who informed me he admired my work. I'm an artist in several media. I am known for creating literary works and doing illustrations for them, as well. And, at times, I've written and performed songs that complement my stories and poetry. So, even though I am rather shy, I did allow him to enter my world on occasion. At first, it was with letters that were forwarded from my publisher here in Edinburgh. He was always quite proper and respectful. When I had become trusting we.