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I turn to look at him, moving so he can see all of me as I let my dress slide down my shoulders, over the swell of my breasts, down my hips and onto the floor, leaving me in my chemise. The thin fabric cups my breasts, and I know from his sharp indrawn breath he can see the darker outline of my nipples thrusting against the cloth. My hands travel over my body, skimming along my curves, and I let out a long sigh. I ease myself down on the bed, half sitting so he can see all of me, including the blush burning my cheeks.

"Pull up your skirt." His voice is harsh and his eyes are dark.

I grab handfuls of the fabric near my waist and pull it slow, up past my knees, over the smooth skin of my thighs. Up over the hot mound of my pussy.

He groans, deep from his chest. If I wasn't so ready, so eager for this, I might smile, but his reaction instead makes me pant.

"So smooth," he forces out.

"Yes," I agree, dancing my fingers over the newly bare lips of my moist flesh. I watch his eyes follow every stroke, every flicker, every rub. "It was my newest punishment. It hurt." I flinch a little, remembering the hotness of the wax, and the intense burn as she ripped my hair away, leaving me exposed. "But I think maybe it was worth it?" Now I do smile, a tiny smile with an even smaller helping of pleased..

"Yes," he breathes out, "yes. Show me."

I stretch, spreading my legs and drawing my knees up so my feet are flat on the bed. My fingers are edging my pussy now, spreading my juices over my lips. I carefully avoid penetrating myself -- the witch does not allow so much -- but my clit, that I can touch. But I wait for him to tell me it is time. I gasp, and half-laugh, half-sob. So wet, and so ready.

"Your tits. Touch them," he whispers. I'm slow, not wanting to drag my hands away from my aching slit. "Touch them!" he barks. My hands jump away to my top, fumbling with the buttons. I manage them, and my breasts fall out into my waiting hands. I moan with pleasure at the touch. They are so full, so ready, and I can feel the answering throb in my clit as I massage the reddened tips.

"Harder," the mirror commands, and I obey, rolling my nipples between my thumb and forefinger. Back arching, I come off the bed, giving him a better view of my glistening pussy. "Good girl," he says, his voice rough and uneven. I can hear the rhythm of him in his voice, and I know his strong hand his stroking his cock. It's been a long time since she let us be together, so this will be quick. We must hurry.

I keep touching myself, my restless hands moving on my tits, and wait for him to let me move lower. I don't beg, but I roll my hips and plead with my eyes, spreading my legs even wider to show him how badly my cunt needs the attention. The rough material of the bedspread chafes against the swollen welts on my ass.

"Now," he dictates. "I want to see you come." He growls out the last word. Heat rushes across my skin. My desperate hands leap to my pussy, stroking and caressing the inflamed flesh. Flicking a fingertip across my clit, my body writhes as the other hand probes and stretches my the lips around my slit. Wetness slides down into the crack of my ass. Feeling how eager my body is excites me more, and I cry out.

"Fuck me," I sigh, stroking faster. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." I don't want to beg, but I need it so bad my voice is rising to ragged edge. There is an emptiness inside my pussy so intense it borders on pain. I know on the level of red raw instinct needs filling by his iron-hard cock, by being held down and fucked, pounded into the bed. "Fuck me! Please!" Hearing myself pant out my desires spurs me on, sends an extra thrill through my body, an electric tingle from my breasts to my snatch.

A ragged yell fills the room, tearing out of him.

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