11 comments/ 60849 views/ 4 favorites Desperate Measures By: Moondrift Anglia Ford was desperate; she had to somehow stir some life into that flaccid chunk of man meat that was her husband's penis. She had teased it with her nipples, massaged it vigorously and sucked it zealously, and still it didn't stir. Her husband, Hillman Ford, groaned and said, "Leave the bloody thing alone or you'll wear it out." "I will not leave it alone," Anglia wailed, "I want my conjugation rights." "If you mean your conjugal rights," Hillman replied, "you had those a long time ago and what have you got to show for it?" That was a familiar theme but Anglia wasn't going to start and argument because arguments are not conducive to erection making, so she said, "Darling, I'm trying to amend things now, aren't I, so just relax and it might happen." Hillman merely grunted. She returned to sucking his penis and at last she felt it stir. It was not that in the normal course of events she wanted to engage in sexual intercourse Hillman -- it was in fact an unpleasant experience -- but she needed his insipid sperm in her. When she thought it had achieved sufficient rigidity she heaved herself over Hillman and inserted it into her vagina. It was rather like trying to push jelly into a narrow letterbox slot but she finally managed it. She started to bounce on him with short jerky movements because longer strokes might cause the thing to slip out of her. It took a long time and there was always the danger that it might go limp before Hillman ejaculated -- if he did at all. Anglia knew that she had won through when Hillman gave another grunt. A pathetic dribble of thin sperm that she hardly felt splattered into her for a few seconds, but Anglia was satisfied with this for it would serve her purpose. Relieved Anglia removed herself from Hillman and returned to her own bed. She was safe now and she slept soundly. * * * * * * * * Anglia, sad to say, was as a young woman somewhat avaricious. She had the looks and decided that she would exploit this asset. Encouraged by her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Morris, and urged on by her brother Austin Morris, Anglia became a natural huntress and her pursuit finally led her to Hillman Ford; fifty years of age, a wealthy scrap metal merchant, and lacking a son and heir, you might say that Anglia became a Hillman Hunter It was at a social gathering held by friends of her parents they met. Gnome-like Hillman Ford had been invited because the host needed a favour from him. Hillman was like Anglia, on the hunt for a suitable womb to carry his son, and his beady eyes lit upon Anglia. She was nineteen years of age he decided that she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her hair was a full rich brown, with glints of gold in it as though there were captive sunbeams struggling in its depths. Her eyes, set wide apart, were hazel, a golden hazel that again recalled the memory of sunbeams. Hillman had certain ideas about what sort of woman would fulfill his need. Anglia seemed to fit his requirement: hips sufficiently wide; breasts promising a goodly supply of milk when the need arose. "Yes," he thought, "she'll make a good breeder." Anglia was at first repulsed by ugly Hillman's attentions, but when she learned that he was immensely rich, he became surprisingly handsome. If at their wedding any of the guests were amused by their height disparity and thought of Beauty and the Beast -- Hillman five feet two and Anglia five feet nine -- they didn't show it. Nearly all the guests were either in Hillman's debt or wanted a favour from him. There existed an unwritten contract between Anglia and Hillman: on her side she must keep her looks and produce a son; on Hillman's side, if she kept her side of the contract he would serve as a conduit to provide her with money and those things it would buy. Hillman held to the view that money isn't everything, but what it isn't it will buy, and it had certainly bought Anglia. After eight years of marriage Anglia had only honoured one part of the contract; she still had her looks, but she had failed to produce an heir. In fairness to her it has to be said that Hillman was well past his best when it came to sexual potency. The difficulty was that Hillman would not acknowledge that he might be the one at fault when it came to propagation of the species. He had never threatened to trade Anglia in, largely because her decorative appearance often gave him an edge when he held dinner parties for people from whom he wanted a favour, but Anglia was never quite sure where she stood in the scheme of things. Sexual intercourse with Hillman she found repulsive, because apart from his general ugliness his fingernails were always dirty and his breath smelt of old sump oil. She bore this bravely, telling herself she must do her duty, and it was somewhat a relief when Hillman's always weak libido descended on a scale of zero to ten, to somewhere around two and falling. This however, meant that the chances of her getting pregnant were also diminishing. Another ingredient must now be thrown into the mix. Avaricious Anglia may have been, and fearful that Hillman might dump her, but she was also sexually hot. Given that she found sexual intercourse with Hillman distasteful, and also given that he could barely perform, Anglia found herself in a maddening situation. Even when Hillman did manage to perform it did nothing for Anglia, and almost invariably she had to creep back to her bed to service herself while Hillman snored stertorously in the other bed. To meet her sexual needs Anglia could easily have taken a lover, but she always worried about getting found out and thereby being thrown off the gravy train. And so Anglia found herself in a precarious and frustrating situation, eased only by Hillman's financial generosity. The problem is that as sexual urges can become so insistent the balance between sex and money begins to tilt in the direction of sex. Thus it was when Anglia's brother, Austin Morris, came to stay with them at their seaside villa for a couple of weeks. * * * * * * * * Austin Morris was by way of being a bright young man. A research chemist he confided to Anglia that he had been working on something which, he said, "Will make ninety year olds guys perform like a Mercedes Sports and will turn women into supercharged eight cylinder jobs. It'll render walrus tusks and rhinoceros horns obsolete," he added, "and so I'll be doing my bit to save the wild life." Anglia thought of asking Austin if she could try it out on Hillman, but hesitated because it might work and she would then be constantly engaged in sexual intercourse with him, and that was something not to be contemplated. Austin's revelation did however lead her to open up with him about her dilemma, namely, her distaste for sex with Hillman, her unsatisfied sex drive, her failure to produce the required son and the anxiety she had that Hillman might discard of her. "Well," Austin said optimistically, "look on the bright side. If he did divorce you you'd probably get a good payout." "Yes, possibly," Anglia said doubtfully, thinking of the three thousand dollar a day barristers Hillman would be able to employ. "But you know me Austin, I like security, and I've got that with Hillman." She waved a hand adorned with rings, their precious stones gleaming in the afternoon sun, as if to demonstrate her security. "Yes, I see what you mean," Austin said. "What you need is some guy you fancy whose firing on all cylinders, that way you'll get all the sex you need and he might get you pregnant." "Yes, I've thought of that," Anglia replied, "but suppose I got caught, or the guy started to talk about what we were doing, they do you know. Affairs are tricky; you need to find someone you can trust absolutely. There's this woman I know, Cowley Rover; she had an affair and the guy started to blab. Her husband found out and he nearly beat her to death." "Yes, difficult," Austin said, looking at Anglia speculatively. "A bloody good looking woman," he thought, "a pity it's all going to waste. I wouldn't mind road testing her myself." Anglia sighed and said, "Well, are we going swimming or not?" "Yes...yes..." Austin said, snapping out of his reverie, "I'll just go and change." * * * * * * * * Now I can't swear to the accuracy of this, but someone once told me that if there's someone, like a sister, that you've known all you life, and then you don't see them for a long time, when you do see them again you can have a whole new perspective on them. That warm summer afternoon Austin got a whole new perspective on Anglia. Having already decided that she was a good looking woman and worthy of a road test; after they descended the somewhat hazardous ladder down to Leyland Cove -- it used to be called Daimler Cove but got it's name changed when a Leyland truck went over the cliff killing the driver and scattering several hundred chickens that had been its load. A lot of the chickens got killed along with the driver, and locals claim that at times the ghostly clucks and squawks of the dead chickens can be heard. It was upon the sands of chicken haunted Leyland Cove that the scales finally dropped completely from Austin's eyes. Sister Anglia was revealed to him in all her seductive beauty. She had removed her beach coat and stood before him wearing a minute bikini that was clearly designed to reveal rather than conceal. "Who needs an aphrodisiac with her around?" he thought, his penis going into overdrive. She reminded him of the MG XP he'd set his heart on owning. While he looked at her, she was staring at him, or more accurately, at the growing lump in his groin that his swim wear, like Anglia's, failed to conceal. "Why haven't I noticed that before?" she thought, "after all, I've known him for years. He's a really great looking guy, and I wouldn't mind having that piston in my cylinder." In response to this thought her cylinder began to lubricate. I wonder if anyone has come up with a way of lubricating a car cylinder before the motor has started, it might save a bit of wear and tear. Sorry, I got sidetracked. The over heating brother and sister made a dash for the sea in the vain hope that it would cool their systems. Of course the outcome was the very opposite because the cloth of their swimwear was rendered transparent once it was wet, and this I suppose was the designers intention. They undertook the perilous tasks of drying each other and then lay down on beach towels. For Anglia it was all happening. Her vagina was well lubricated and it was enlarging; her external genitals were swelling and her clitoris was pulsating deliciously and her nipples had extended and were firmed. An astute observer might also have noticed the dilation of her pupils. She was revving up to go. There was no doubt about it; she needed a good fast run. As for Austin, his penis was erect and throbbing and his testes were gearing up for a release of his sperm and already they were sending precum up his shaft. Have you ever noticed that if you leave a car unused for any length of time it deteriorates more rapidly than if you are driving it regularly? The moral is, make sure you do take it for a regular run, and a run was what Austin's penis needed. It was just a question of who was going to activate the starter motor. It was Anglia who turned the key. "I trust you Austin," she said meekly. "Oh...er...do you?" "Yes," Anglia said fondly. "Do you remember that time I stole the chocolate biscuits and you saw me and I wouldn't share them with you?" "Mmm, yes, I remember." "And mum and dad accused you of stealing them and you wouldn't give me away and you weren't allowed to see television for a week." "Yes, I remember but you did promise to let me..." Anglia blushed as she recalled what she had promised and cut in quickly before Austin spelt it out; "I always trusted you after that." "Oh," Austin said. "You'd never blab, would you?" "Er...no...er...no I wouldn't." The motor was running, Anglia put it into gear and let out the clutch rather violently. "Make me pregnant Austin," she said speaking rapidly. "What?" "For God's sake make me pregnant and don't make me wait I'm as horny as hell." "Here?" Austin gasped. "There's no one around so get on with it, or do I have to rape you." Austin got on with it. He took off Anglia's bikini and started to kiss her and fondle her breasts but Anglia was up and running. "Another time...another time," she cried, "Do it to me now." Her legs were wide open and Austin could see her pink inner lips fluttering over the entrance to her vagina. He got between her legs and began to seek her entrance with the head of his penis. Anglia, impatient for his penetration, took hold of his penis and guided him in. As the head of his penis entered her it was grasped by the muscles that surrounded the entrance to her vagina and he gave a yell of ecstasy. As he penetrated her he felt the rhythmic contractions of her vagina like the throbbing of a well tuned car engine; she was sending him into the seventh heaven, wherever that is. "Come in me...come in me..." Anglia was crying out, "I need it I...oh...mmm...mmmm...oh...darling I'm...I'm...oh God...oh God...yes...yes...aaaheeeeow..." Anglia's only sexual experience had been with Hillman, and now she was discovering what had been missing in her life. It was not the weak solution that was Hillman's sperm that now burst into her; it was Austin's thick young cum. She cried out as she felt it pounding into her, and afterwards she wept from sheer joy. "Do you think that's done it?" Austin asked as he took his penis out of her. "Can't be sure," Anglia replied, we'll have to have a few more goes to be certain, or as certain as we can be." "Ah, yes, but what about Hillman, he might..." "No...no...darling," Anglia said, "He's gone to town for a week or so, business or something like that." "Ah excellent," Austin said, "but would you mind if next time we didn't do it on the beach, I'd rather somewhere private?" "Let's go back to the house," Anglia said, we can use the big divan. I'd rather not the bedrooms because yours has only got a single bed, and I don't fancy having sex with you in the same room I've had with Hillman, too many unpleasant memories." They made there way back up the ladder and headed for the house. Once there Anglia decided that Austin's sperm had been given enough time to do its job, so she went off and had a shower to remove it. She invited Austin to join her but decreed that they should not have sex under the shower on the grounds that next time it had to be full throttle, and they could have sex under the shower some time in the future, just for a change. They retired to the living room and specifically the divan, and having had their high speed test drive they now settled down to cruising speed; enjoying the journey, as it were and experiencing the finer appointments. This of course involved careful hand and tongue explorations of each others upholstery and instrument panels. When they finally finished it was agreed that they would make very satisfactory vehicles for further trips but of course, there was a problem; Austin was not going to be around long term, and what was more, Hillman would be coming back. It was the return of Hillman that Anglia most dreaded, not because she would not be able to copulate with Austin -- she was sure they could work around that until Austin took to the road again - but because she knew what she had to do with Hillman. First there was the difficulty in getting Hillman's motor running, and then the unpleasant ride if she did get it turning over, and this is where we came in. * * * * * * * * At the time Anglia did manage to get Hillman up and running she did not know if she was pregnant or not. Her effort in cranking Hillman up and the unpleasant ride that followed might not have been necessary. As it was, well after Austin took to the road Anglia discovered that she was pregnant, and this only needed confirmation by her doctor. An internal inspection of her working parts showed her to be in fine running order. When she announced to Hillman that she was pregnant he declared himself to be well satisfied wither performance. Over the following months Austin visited in order to service Anglia and make sure she was ticking over smoothly. When Anglia gave birth to a baby Ford (male), Hillman was ecstatic; so much so that his ancient engine blew a gasket and his motor seized up. Once he was safely ensconced in that great service department in the sky, Anglia and Austin decided they would henceforth reside in a doubler garage. The little boy, whom they assumed was the outcome of their joint travels they named Wolseley, and they had many happy and adventurous journeys in the years to come. Of course, it is just possible that Wolseley had sprung from Hillman's dilapidated loins. Unless there are appropriate tests you can't be certain, but Anglia and Austin aren't going got find out. Desperate Measures "Dude, I gotta go." "Dude, I am going and there's not much I can do about it. You gots to wait." I'm squirming outside the bathroom; squinty legs, hopping feet, the works. I knew I was going to have to burst in on my friend who was stuck on the loo evacuating his bowels - somewhat, it has to be said, against his wishes. Of course, this was no accident. Several pints of liquid throughout the day for me; a mild laxative unknowingly mixed into his curry for him. Over time, we had watched pee porn together quite a lot and, perhaps oddly, always enjoyed the more intimate sharing of lesbian peeing videos as opposed to the generally abusive gay peeing stuff. But it had never gone farther than that and I was curious. I hoped he was too. "Dude, I really gotta go. I'm coming in." I opened the door purposefully and stepped over to the toilet. "Spread your legs, I'll aim in-between." He obediently does so and he flashes a micro-smile at me. That's the confirmation I needed to go to the next step. I unzip myself and then unbutton my trousers and pull my boxers and trousers down, letting them fall brazenly, exposing myself to him. I take aim. I release and splash the seat a bit on startup but then manage to hit the gap between his legs; those wonderful hairless legs. Slowly, I move the stream closer to him, closer to his crotch, closer to that cock I enjoy so much. Suddenly my delivery jerks and hits him directly, splashing off him, going everywhere. He shoots up. I take my hands off my cock but don't stop peeing. I glance down at the pee splashing off his thigh and step forward, pressing our bodies together. He doesn't withdraw. This is good. I take his face in my hands and kiss him tenderly while continuing to pee, apparently, uncontrollably. I kiss his top lip, pulling it out slightly. I released and flick my tongue out, stroking the underside of his lip. I feel his tongue instinctively reach for mine. I move my hands to the back of his head. I look at his mouth, his nose, his eyes. I feel the warm pee soaking through the bottom of our shirts. I feel it creating rivers and lakes between our bodies. I feel the primeval liquid making its way down my leg, caressing each individual hair as it goes; inviting every hair and every millimeter of skin it crosses to join the erotic party. My manhood is burgeoning and wants to move. I feel his throb against me. Our bodies part momentarily and our organs grasp the opportunity to readjust. I'm now peeing upward slightly and as we press into each other once more, my cock finds itself a home pointing up and over a bit. The pee fights through our shirts and dribbles onto our legs. I feel it puddle at the top of my sock, gradually soaking downwards. I run my hands down his back to his bottom; my fingers trace his spine. I feel his soft flesh through his shirt, gently stroking the inward curve of the top of his buttocks with my thumbs. I let my fingers find the crease of the underside of his bum and indulgently follow the crease inward toward his crack. Through his shirt, I run the side of a finger up his crack, gently pushing his shirt into his dirt. As I pass his quivering hole, he almost ejaculates excrement. At the same time, his throbbing penis throws off all pretenses and, near instantly, becomes fully hard, fighting against the closeness of our bodies to look skyward. The feeling of his expelling onto my hand, even through his shirt, is more intimate than I could have imagined. I feel so close to him; I've exposed myself in a way I've never done before. I could only do this with a complete stranger or with the guardian of my heart; my trust and passion balloons without limit. I urgently press my lips to his, closing my eyes as I do so. He responds with a hug of intensity and warmth and a tongue of moist intimacy. There's a wonderful squish as our soaked clothing is pressed between us. My hands are still on his crack and his cheek. I feel a spasm and my hand is almost pushed aside by what feels like a torrent of waste. It escapes him with noisy farts and smashes to the ground. I feel it splash my feet. Both our mouths, still touching, morph into dirty smiles and our bodies part as we gaze into each other's eyes. His unfettered penis, now pointing uncompromisingly skyward, releases a fountain of golden wonder. It feels like slow motion as it rises into the air directly into my chest. My shirt was already clinging to me, embracing me through mild sweat. Now the tension of the shirt was released as it was soaked with a liquid more intimate than I could have anticipated. I step backward, allowing his now slightly intermittent output to arc over in the air before splashing on to me. I slowly arch my back, instinctively throwing my head back, exposing my neck in erotic abandon. My pleasure is intense; I can't help but close my eyes again. The stream falters. I feel him move closer once more. I don't need my eyes to know what he is doing. I feel his lips on my Adam's apple. I feel his hands on my sides caressing my soaked shirt. I feel his erect flesh dance with mine. We are soaked. We are dripping. We smell. "We are dirty bitches," I whisper, my voice almost broken through erotic stimulation. "You might be." He stands up straight. I bring my head forward and open my eyes. I experience a wave of relief when I see lust and fun in his eyes. Our cocks twitch in unison. His next words? "Clean me." Send comments or just speak dirty to me through the link below.. Desperate Measures She read the letter again, of course it didn't say anything different from the last few times she had read it, damn the old bastard! She had been so close to getting it all signed and making her future safe when he went and died, now she was keenly aware that her decadent luxurious lifestyle was under threat and she wasn't sure what she should do about it. She thought back to the last trip she had taken, he had flown them both to Milan for a couple of days while he attended some meetings and signed contracts. He had agreed with her suggestion to sign over shares and other holdings, well actually as she ground her cunt into his face he would have signed away his soul! But then he died before her plan could come to fruition. So three years of twisting the old bastard round her finger, of flirting and seducing him then making him her slave, all wasted. The penthouse and her Mercedes were still in his name as were her credit cards, she had money, clothes and jewelry but she felt cold fear as she could see everything disappearing. She had spent almost every day of the last three years treated and feted like a goddess and she couldn't bear to think of that disappearing. She re-read the letter again, company bought out, review of operational costs and procedures, new management, streamlined organisation. She just couldn't see how she was going to be able to continue to bleed the company dry in this new set up. In her official position as PA to the old boss they had allowed her time to grieve, so she had been in the office even less often than she had been in the past, but she had taken the opportunity to try and work out what was going on and again, it didn't look promising. She had a meeting scheduled for the morning with the new owner, she'd seen him and he gave the impression of being a hard businessman, younger than she had expected but scarily focussed on the business to the exclusion of all else, she hadn't heard a good thing about him from any of the old staff. So of course she was going to seduce him, if she could worm her way into his life she might be able to keep some, if not all, of her old lifestyle, but she had her back to the wall and wasn't used to being in this sort of situation, however she took comfort from the fact that she'd never failed with a man yet so had high hopes of salvaging something from this disaster. She took a great deal of care getting ready the next morning, she needed to look as drop dead seductive as she could manage while not being so obvious she didn't have an escape if it all went wrong. Heels, silk stockings but no seams, her Rigby and Peller lingerie, severely tight pencil skirt, tailored satin blouse that showed of her breasts, sharp jacket, a little more makeup and jewellery than would normally be acceptable for the office, subtle yet alluring perfume. The company chauffeur collected her from the apartment block, another perk she could feel slipping away, and she entered the building and headed up to the new boss's office. It was worse than she had ever imagined imagined, to start with she was left alone waiting in the office, no man had ever dared to made her wait for anything as long as she could remember! She stood at the huge panoramic window, shivering with excitement as she recalled standing in the exact same place, hands flat against the window, legs apart and groaning with pleasure as her slave had licked and rimmed her on command. all that was over now she realised. The new owner came in and the meeting quickly went downhill; he had been through the company staffing costs and other expenditures in forensic detail and had found the huge amount of money that the old boss had spent on her. Her privileged role in the company was under threat and she knew that her wonderful lifestyle was about to come crashing down around her. What was worse was the utter failure to seduce him, she had flirted, teased and tried every trick in her book, nothing worked, he was oblivious to her charms and all her weapons had been tried and had failed, her unexpected and shocking inability to get him to submit left her stunned, she had never failed before! As the meeting had progressed and she had realised how bad her situation was she had stepped up her efforts at seduction, initially flooded with confidence in her power over men she had been haughty and sophisticated, using her subtlest techniques, assuming that he would respond at the same level. When they had failed she had simply assumed that she was operating too far above him, so had resorted to slightly more obvious methods and as each of these failed to elicit the desired response she become more and more desperate, working her way down through her armoury of weapons, getting more and more obvious, a far cry from the heady heights she was used to working at and as she became more frantic she finally descended to the obvious, like some tart trying to pick up a man in a club! Smouldering, lustful glances at him had achieved nothing; subtle changes in position as she sat to enhance her curves hadn't done any good either. Crossing her long silk clad legs with their towering heels had produced no effect, despite doing it several times and making sure the silk rustled in it's sexy way, he had simply failed to look. She had moved close to him, so he could breathe her perfume and see her nipples straining against the satin blouse, again no response. She had 'accidentally' put her hand with it's long painted nails on his when he was showing her some figures and had run her tongue over her thickly painted lips, still no effect. It was getting to the stage where if she was going to do anything she'd have to kneel down and give him a blow job! She was too proud and arrogant for that but what else could she do? An hour of trying to get a reaction out of this bastard and just nothing! She'd never failed to get a man to do her bidding before, but this guy was just like a robot, a machine, she hadn't been able to get any sort of erection from him, no response at all! Finally she couldn't take any more, her wonderful lifestyle, cars, flats, holidays, money, everything was gone, she was back to where she had started all those years ago. "Dammnit yes, you're right" She snapped, getting up from the chair and walking back towards the panoramic window. "I was fucking the old man and he treated me right, that's where the money went" "Well I can't say I'm surprised" the new boss replied, "I was pretty sure that was the situation, of course it won't continue and I will be talking to our lawyers to see what we can do to reclaim some of the money back from you". She shrugged, nothing mattered now, she was ruined and there was nothing she could do about the situation, she had worked hard to achieve this lifestyle and the riches from nothing and she could do it again, although she quailed at the thought of having to start from the bottom again, with nothing. The fact that she hadn't been able to get anything from this man after all her efforts made her cold with fear though for her future. "You do whatever you feel you have to" she replied, and reached into her handbag to light up a cigarette, she needed one and what did she care anymore? "I gave him the best years of his life, he was the happiest man alive when he was serving me" she continued, "and that's something you'll never experience". She dragged on the long white cigarette, then turned and looked straight at the bastard and stopped in shock, he had stood up to show her the door but now he was standing transfixed, a huge bulge in the front of his trousers. His eyes followed the glowing end of her cigarette and she leapt at the opening in his defences. A long slow drag, a deep inhale and puckering her glossy lips to blow out a long plume of smoke, he was still motionless, she licked her thick glossy lips in anticipation and grabbed at her golden opportunity to get everything back; she strutted to the desk and perched herself on the corner, thrusting her breasts out and hiking up her skirt to reveal her stocking tops. "You've never served a proper Mistress have you?" She sneered, "All this power and money and you've never done that, never known your real place in your world. Crawl to me and serve me now and I might let you learn what you've been missing in your life. If you can pleasure me I might just let you worship me". She gestured to her high heels with her cigarette, "Start by licking them, sucking the heel deep into your mouth". Dear goddess the bastard was on his knees and crawling towards her, she could feel herself getting damp and exhilaration rushed through her body, she was seducing him finally, she had just needed to find a way past his armour. As he sucked her heel into his mouth she smiled cruelly down at him, everything would be alright now, she was saved! And he was going to suffer such pain and torture for putting her through this experience, she was already starting to make plans. "I'll be staying in a luxury hotel in Rome later this month I think, you take care of it my pet and I might even allow you to light my cigarette next time you crawl across the floor at my command, but right now all you need to do is lick me to an orgasm, then put me right back onto the payroll with a very large pay rise!". He stretched his head forward between her silk clad thighs and reverently pushed the slip of satin to one side as his tongue flicked across her sensitive clitoris, she moaned with pleasure as he started to lick up and down her hot wet pussy, she grabbed his hair and viciously dragged him into a better position to pleasure her. As she ground herself hard against his mouth she put her head back and groaned and moaned in ecstasy as her new slave licked and sucked her; everything was back as it should be, her position and power restored, and her new slave was much younger than the old one had been, she was going to enjoy breaking him to her will and using him to satisfy her needs!