“I can. I would,” she said with determination. Her back straightened and she turned her head to the side and fixed me with an adamant glare. Yes, ... could see it plainly. She would. She wanted this that terribly. “Then prove your worth to your master.” I stepped around her and stopped directly in front of her. I folded my arms across my chest and glowered at her most sourly. Her eyes drifted down, seemingly against her will and settled on the fly of my slacks. She smiled, a rosy hue colored her. "How did you learn to read minds?" she gasped softly. "Did you sell your soul to the devil for that power?"I reached into my pocket for a packet of tissues and leaned across the table to dry her eyes."I'm sorry," I said. "I see that once again I have said something to disturb you."Abruptly she stood up and grabbed my hand. "Please," she demanded with a low voice, "Take me away from here. I don't want to break down in public."I threw two dollars on the table for the coffee and led her to my car.. (And to think, I'd never heard of oral!)Now it was a sunny avenue in Hampstead, and Christabel - lovely name for a lovely actress, big, buxom and wonderfully uninhibited. In her well-honed cut-glass accent, out poured every glorious obscenity in the language, a seriously arousing music. And when she reached down casually to switch holes, screaming "Worship my shit!" I was transported into a new world of tightness and tautness and tingling wickedness, as she began to make odd little whooping. ‘So you live alone?’ ‘Yeah. I don’t live well with people so I got my own place. I can deal with people visiting or spending the night ever once in a while,’ I looked straight at her as I said that last part, ‘but for now, I like my space.’ ‘I completely understand.’ We continued talking for a while and I paid close attention because I wanted to fuck her but I also wanted her as a possible booty call so the longer we talked and formed at least a general friendship, I could keep in touch with.
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