His face beautiful in French Indian design. He left me with a profound intuitiveness, brought on by surrender. Paint me a picture of her in the dress.... Let me see what you see. Can you do that? The man who talks of his wife stimulates my mind. He voices his accounts of his sacrifices for her pleasure. Her illness and trappings of her mind which she really begs to be rescued from. Her thoughts are perhaps a new dress, perhaps a turtle dress, will cure her of her desires. ‘This is turtle love,’ I. I moved down the bed so I could see his fingers playing with her clit and slip slowly inside her. After about 5 minutes of doing this he slowly moved his way down her body kissing and licking as he went, I looked at her nipples still glistening from his saliva and thought what a beautiful sight. Joan by now was wiggling as if she was laying on an ant hill. He moved down and down until he was just millimetres from her pussy, then all of a sudden he just buried his head straight between her. More

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