Your hands would touch my waist and my stomach, stroke the tops of my breasts following the gentle curving line of the top of my bra. Your hands would feel so good, and I would want them to feel more of me so I’d take off my bra. (You were never good at that.) I would drop it on the carpet and you would say ‘You know, it looked good on you, but it looks even better on the floor.’ We would stumble to the bed. Your weight would feel good on top of me, and your mouth would feel so good tasting my collarbone and my nipples and my stomach. My skin would be warm where you kiss me and tingly where I would want you to kiss me. You would reach the waistband of my skirt and I’d whisper to you to take it off. Your tongue would skim the lacy edge of my panties and I’d stroke your hair while mouthing ‘Please…’ My legs would fall open like a flower for you and your hands would sit on the tops of my thighs while you kiss my center. I would be so wet—for this, for you. You know what I like, and you. The next thing she remembered was waking up, and although she was blindfolded with her hands tied behind her back she could hear other girls crying and begging for help and that they wanted to be let loose. She then realized that she was completely naked the next thing that she felt was being picked up and carried along. She could not see and her imagination was working overtime as to all the things that could happen to a nude, bound, young girl. She was scared to death at the possibilities but was also uncontrollably wet. She had fantasized and had routinely masturbated as a young girl with the thought of being kidnapped and sold into slavery to a Sheik of a middle eastern harem or to black African slave traders, that would sell a young white virgin like her for the most perverted and abusive sex to black native savages! Things her young mind could never imagine, but the thought of not knowing the details had only made the possibilities even more appealing! Next she felt wide.
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