Unfortunately, just before our lips made contact, she pulled away, her smile seasoned with a touch of regret. Pressing my forehead into hers, I gave her a serious look as I whispered, “Please tell me you’re not joking.”
Keeping her forehead pressed to mine, she slowly shook her head back and forth and giggled, “I am not.”
Our breath mingled as we hovered close to each other, and my lips started to drift toward hers, inevitably drawn by some invisible force. Tits? “Good girl,” I barely heard the dominant blonde mutter into her pet’s hair. I leaned my head back against the headrest of the helicopter and closed my eyes. Then, when the opportunity for us to get together came, I fucked up and waited too long. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
It was a simple statement, but something about the look in her eyes and the fervor in how she said it… I just… knew. Her face hovered inches from mine; her lips were coated in her own saliva, and once more, I was tempted to kiss her again as she gulped down oxygen. “What if I let you put a collar on me… like Bobbi? The sensual feel of soft, pillowy lips on mine… a soft, wet tongue pinning mine and wrestling with it… the taste and feel of little breaths taken between
