Ultimately, she wanted to keep this pure and sex always seems to carry emotional baggage that a kiss did not. She like what they were, but how could that be when we are home again, if this continued. His hands were on her buttocks, pressing and smoothing the skin, spreading and cupping them. Warm glistening moisture from her inner lips moistened her panties. If she were with her husband, she would have taken them off by now. But here with a man she has only known for a little while, they were the last door between her as wife and adulteress. He turned slightly on one hip and his right hand maneuvered between them to touch her clitoris. When she moaned, he broke the spell of the kiss to lookinto her eyes…. his lips curving slightly in amusement at her innocent confusion and complacent submission. His left arm angled and propped his head. He could the gray crests of the black ocean. The sun had set since he walked onto her porch. The ocean air carried the scent of her, waving soft. At the next scene a submissive girl was cuffed to a St. Andrew's cross and a large crowd had gathered to watch as her Master flogged her back and ass. He was in the process of unbuckling her wrist cuffs from the big 'X' and turning her around to flog her front. She too was hooded but I was pretty sure it wasn't Sylvia. "It's not her!" cried Annie, tugging at my hand. I followed her through the crowd and looked ahead and all around us. Where were the partners? I wondered. God I hope this doesn't get out of hand! We arrived at the next scene where a sub was being very lightly caned while her Mistress explained loudly to the crowd about her enjoyment of corporal punishment, and I winced. The sub was very slim, but light-skinned and wasn't Sylvia. I sighed and we kept going. Up ahead it looked like half the hall had poured onto the dance floor and were dancing like crazy people. Soft spotlights over each table and flashing coloured lights and lasers beaming out around the dance floor lit.
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