This chair had touched Her bottom. In so doing it had taken on a significance infinitely beyond its mundane functionality. It brought James, through t...e workings of his fevered imagination, closer to the idea of Her; of Mistress Dionne. He knew he was not worthy of touching his Mistress herself, but somehow the chair and James shared a bond. The chair had held the weight of his Mistress, asking no favour but to serve; seeking no acknowledgement, only use; craving no thanks beyond having. I initially started with squeezing the sides of her tummy and sometimes tracing my finger across her panty and massaging the navel. A couple of minutes and she was turned on. She started jutting her ass and rubbing it erotically against my moving pelvis. We soon came into a rhythm and this kept on going. She soon dragged my hands from her tummy towards her boobs. I was a little over excited thinking that these were the boobs I kept fantasising about, and was a little too aggressive in squeezing. More

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