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There had been a spark between them almost from the japanese moment they had sat down together. After the initial fumbling with apologies and reassurances between them the conversation had begun to flow asian with an ease that surprised them both. And very soon something else – something less like a spark and more like an electrical charge - began to flow between them as well. It was something neither one of them would have dared to acknowledge, at least not out loud, so soon after they had just met, especially Chelsea. She was no prude, by any means, but for her sex was something that happened only after a suitable period of getting to know someone and building emotional trust and intimacy. But sitting there at the table with David, telling him some innocuous anecdote about the client she had been rushing to meet, Chelsea had become more and more aware of a sense of power radiating from him. Something in the frank way that he’d looked into her eyes seemed to brush aside all of her normal defenses and stir something at her very core that had never even been touched before. She’d felt the beginnings of moisture between her legs and suddenly began to stumble over her words, and then to blush, which caused her to stumble even more, sure that David had noticed and that somehow he knew the reason for it. Whether he knew the reason or not, David had noticed Chelsea’s discomfort and had tactfully taken over the conversation, telling her more about his work as a lawyer specializing in environmental causes while she recovered. But she never did, really. Even though she managed, by a terrific effort of will, to bring herself under control and return her focus to the subject at hand, Chelsea had been unable to keep certain thoughts from circling at the edge of her japan awareness. Her imagination had refused to be reigned in and persisted in trying to draw her attention to a short film it was showing, over and over, of Chelsea smiling at David and saying, “Excuse me a moment,” then sliding off her chair …crawling under the table…seizing the tab of his zipper in her teeth… She’d suddenly realized that David had asked her a question and torn her attention away from the film, trying to slam and lock the door to the projection booth behind her. For the rest of that first encounter with David she could hear that projector whirring away somewhere in the recesses of her imagination, but she’d gotten through it somehow. And before parting they had agreed to meet there again for dinner that Friday night. She’d gotten nothing done at work that afternoon beyond an apologetic phone call to the client she’d missed at lunch. Well, she had done something: late in the afternoon, when she could stand it no more, she had quietly closed the door to her office, returned to her desk and for the first time in her life slid her hand under her skirt and masturbated at work. She’d watched the film her imagination had created, now in glorious Technicolor and digital surround-sound, while she touched herself. She’d watched it again, this time sliding two fingers beneath the elastic at the crotch of her panties. It shocked and fascinated her, watching these images of herself, in her somewhat severe office clothing, down on all fours beneath a table in a public restaurant, her skirt riding up her thighs while she used her mouth to pleasure this man she barely knew. But it was the Director’s Cut of the film that had caused Chelsea to lose all restraint – to raise her hips long enough to slide her panties down to her ankles and kick them off under her desk, then spread her legs as far apart as she could. She’d fingered herself to orgasm, her free hand over her mouth to cover her moans while watching David haul her fantasy-self out from under the table, throw her down on top of the table and take her right there in full view of everyone, while holding her wrists above her head. Ohhhhhhhh…. Afterwards, when she had recovered somewhat, she had felt ashamed and more than a little disturbed by the fact that she’d been so aroused by playing such a submissive role in her fantasy. She had Hardcore never been the type of woman who dreamed of being taken by force, or tied up or sexually dominated in any other way. And she’d had no idea why this chance encounter should have affected her in this manner but she was not at all comfortable with it. That had been Wednesday. Several times between then and her scheduled date with David on Friday evening Chelsea had seriously considered calling him to cancel or at least postpone, more than once getting to the point of taking out her phone and starting to punch in his number. But each time she’d told herself that she was being ridiculous, that seeing him again would prove that his effect on her had just been the result of a passing mood. And she had pointedly ignored the insistent whirring of the projector in the back of her mind fetish while waiting for the hours to pass. Still, when Friday night arrived she’d found herself growing more and more nervous. She agonized over what to wear, completely changing her outfit and hair several times, trying to find the right balance between safely attractive and blatantly sexy. She’d gotten so involved in the process that she lost track of the time and was running late before she’d even gotten out the door. And since the restaurant was a good distance from her apartment building she had arrived nearly twenty-five minutes late. David had been waiting for her in the same place where she had nearly knocked him over the previous time. He’d smiled and brushed off her apologies while taking her coat, and nothing more had been said about it. Yet somehow Chelsea had known that wasn’t the end of it, though she couldn’t for the life of her have explained how she knew. It was like a distant rumble of thunder heard from over the horizon on a clear, sunny day. It was something in the way he looked at her while they talked, something similar to the first time, but now in some subtle way more focused. There was nothing at all in his manner that Chelsea would have described as sinister or calculating, but nevertheless she’d found herself repressing an occasional shiver – and even the whirring of the projector had faded into the background. The dinner itself had been a great success, at least on the surface. I was really excited because finally, things like this didn't feel as wrong anymore. And so he wasn't ashamed or hung-up about his sexuality asian at all. It was a wild risk. Tegan noticed that Tracey had been summoned by one of japan the couples near to her and they had retreated to the couch where the woman was touching herself while watching her partner receive a blowjob. And I have to tell you that we've been talking about Hardcore it just now and we both enjoyed it so much we want japanese to try it again and soon!" “Shh.” Lucilla smiled, putting a finger to my lips, silencing me. Her blue eyes twinkled as the tip of her finger circled the outline of my mouth, gently deforming the luscious flesh. "I'll do it." Jean looked thoughtfully at her sister, then edged closer to her and reached up to touch Ashley’s right boob. “But you didn’t need to go to that much effort. She gasped and moaned as I licked through her heavenly pussy. fetish