Indian

Madame Vesta bowed her head in acknowledgement. No doubt at all, she told herself, I've got a new and eager client there!Under the shower, thinking of all he had withnessed that morning, Quentin soon found himself in rampant erection. He could not recall when he had felt so sexually powerful. It was like being a young man again. He was tempted to play with himself... then told himself that would be quite ridiculous, in view of all the other delights that lay ahead. He subdued himself under a cold shower and changed into fresh pants, shirt and slacks.Luncheon was light but delicious... iced melon, followed by cold salmon. Champagne was available, but Quentin, perhaps wisely, declined, Dr Heine, on the other hand, who had joined himself and Madame Vesta, quaffed back at least half a bottle. He looked smugly satisfied, giving Quentin several knowing winks. Doubtless, thought Quentin, he had only just finished having a fine old tumble with his flame-haired Rebecca and was feeling very. Even the towel was somehow intimate then. Every touch was personal. My whole body glowed. When I was dry, I threw the towel to the floor as well. All of that could wait. I stumbled from the bathroom and collapsed into bed.I was so tired I wasn't sure I would actually hit the sheets before I was asleep ... but that didn't happen. I lay there, exhausted but not quite relaxed, and willed myself to sleep.It didn't work.Eventually I moved, pulled the covers up over myself, lay down on my stomach, and did what I knew I was going to do all along.Lifting my butt a little from the sheet, I slid one hand beneath my body, under my hips, between my legs. I straightened three fingers on that hand, held them rigid, and slowly lowered my body over them, sliding the fingers deep inside myself, impaling myself on my own hand.This was the first way I learned to come, the way I survived before I'd let a man touch me. Late at night, alone in bed, this was still my favourite way.I lifted my hips again.
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