Her knees sank into the soft blue silk coverlet and she fell forward on her arms, which only made her ass stick out as if she were begging him to use her—which she wasn’t really trying to do; she was simply playing her role. The fabric of her pale green skirt stretched tightly across her ass cheeks, clearly slowing the demarcation of her anal cleft. It had been some time since she’d worn panties. Christopher had banned them in his house. She wore nothing under her clothes but her stockings and garters—occasionally an actual garter belt to hold her nylons, when Christopher wanted that particular look.
“Ooo, oui, oui!” Monsieur murmured with a guttural quality to his rich baritone.
Thankfully, she could close her eyes and think romantically about this man; his voice resonated with a s****
