Then she tossed me the panties, and told me to keep then as a souvenir! Part of my brain was still functioning, and I remarked that these, a plain lemon yellow pair, were not the ones she had on earlier. "Of course not", she explained, "After what you did to me on the moor, I creamed those ones all the way home! I had to change before supper."I was more relaxed now, and dimly starting to understand that she was being flirty. But my cock was still limp. Andi lifted the skirt, and then sat on the bale. She had her knees as far apart as she had on the moor, but now her feet were planted wide outside her knees, on the bale, with her back to a rough timber joist. I was looking much less down on her, and more on a level, and had a much better view than before, even in the dim light. I could now see a dark hole, near the back of her slit, which I knew wasn't her asshole, and it had some milky wet stuff coming from it. Then Andi took a little of the wet stuff on her fingers, and. ’ I put the box on a table and opened it. The dress I held up was beautiful, a burgundy red gown you might have worn to a cocktail party in the 1950s. ‘Oh, this is lovely!’ ‘Just put it on.’ His voice had changed. His confidence at a new high. I tested it with a little joke. ‘May I laugh while you spank me, Sir?’ Clearly and devastatingly, I soon became aware that this was the wrong thing to say. There was nothing from him, not even a polite snigger. Then he turned to me, those eyes blazing to my very core, and I knew what I had to do. It wasn’t coldness or a feeling of distance, just a remarkable sense that he was in charge and I was there to satisfy his needs. Mine didn’t matter. I felt nothing but elation as I took off all my clothes. He stared at me the whole time and I felt no trace of embarrassment as I stood naked before him. The dress fit me so perfectly it might have been made for me. He had moved, a little, in front of a mirror. ‘Come to me…’ His command over me, quite.
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