An English voice; not remarkable in London, and certainly pleasant to listen to with its warm, soft and almost timid tone. "I’m sorry, I’ll just change that for you," replied the waiter then hurriedly picked up the cup and departed.Getting up to leave, I turned abruptly and saw her face for the first time. Her eyes were downcast as she concentrated on sending a text message. I took my time putting my jacket back on and straitening it, while looking at her long, honey blonde hair and lips of pale vermillion. She was smartly dressed in a grey business suite and wore a few discreet rings along with a small gold watch. She now glanced at the watch then unceremoniously tossed the phone back into a small handbag. She looked up. The waiter had just reappeared and I saw her blue eyes catch the light and smile as she noticed that he was heading towards her carrying a fresh cup of coffee. The British would have called her posh but there seemed to be nothing ostentatious or pretentious about. I slapped them red on all sides, and directed several stern blows to her erect nipples. She finally hung her head in climatic exhaustion, oblivious to my actions. I let her rest long enough to make a trip over to the freezer, returning with a bucket of ice cubes. The first one went right into her steaming pussy. She gasped, but accepted it without a word. I pushed another one in, then another. Of course, the cubes melted rapidly. I took one in each hand and rubbed them gingerly on her sensitive breasts, and she jerked back in reaction. But, soon she was sighing with the soothing relief the ice provided to her burning body parts.I helped her to resume her kneeling position on the chairs. I lowered the rope slightly, until her tits were barely above the workbench. Then, I picked up the thick, rough mat from in front of the door, and placed it on the workbench directly under my beautiful niece’s tits. Her nipples barely grazed the coarse, itchy mat, as her firm boobs swung.
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