When her warm mouth opened around his embarrassingly erect cock he almost cried out at the scandal of it. But the firm, assuring feeling of her lips wrapping around him stifled it into something like a throaty groan. A sound of gratification, he realized, but it was too late to stop it now.The walls in the little house were thin, so they kept as quiet as they could while the tailor’s wife tended to him with her sumptuous mouth and the little licking sensation of her mischievous tongue. When she tasted that he was ready she removed it and, favoring him with a wink, sat up in bed on all fours, her backside in the air in an invitation he couldn’t mistake.Blood pounded in the tailor’s brain as he sat up. The sleek curves of his wife’s fine body coaxed a lecherous and lustful chorus of pants out of him that suggested anticipation he would never admit to in words.But the smoothness of her thighs, the roundness of her behind, the taut line of her back all the way up to the point between her. Without a word, she turned and walked back to the table. I hastened to keep up with her on all fours. She snatched the writing pad and went over to the couch, flopping down in the middle, and like an obedient puppy, I knelt next to her. She patted her lap. “Jump up and lay here, with your back across my thighs.” I did that, and it wasn’t really comfortable, with just my back resting on her thighs and my bum and my head in the air. It got even more uncomfortable when she ordered me to spread my legs as far as the couch allowed and to stretch my arms over my head. “Are you comfortable, little one?” That endearment was new, and for a moment I felt compelled to lie to her. But I answered truthfully, “No, Mistress Summers.” “Good.” She paused, perhaps to let it sink in. Somehow, she had become an enigma to me. While I had known her as a reliable, funny person under all her flightiness, she was now a mixture of loving tenderness and cruelty. But my thoughts didn’t have long to stray. “It’s.
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