She moaned cutely as her fingers probed through the thin material. A sly smile crossed her lips. I must’ve been visibly struggling. Her hands stroke... up her body, riding the flimsy dress hitched over her hips, and found the swell of her chest. She cupped her breasts, rolling her fingers over her nipples through the fabric. I loved to watch the expression on her face change, hear the soft moans through her lips at every touch. Our eyes met and her lips pursed in a smile; her fingers hooked over. To be held down and ravished, preferably by a big black man. She emphasised that it was only a fantasy as she wouldn't want to have intercourse with anyone other than myself under any circumstances.'Maybe you would like to act out something along those lines.''If it was acting it wouldn't work,' she replied.I went on to suggest. 'Why not have a real scenario where you would be really forced but it would be prearranged that the limits were feeling and sucking your breasts and maybe finger. More

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