She stood over me and looked down at my body. 'My pet' she called me, she loved it when I pretended to be her slave. She leaned down over me and kisse... my lips. My hands slowly traced the curves of her body before she grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the bed. “Ah, ah, ah,” she said, “You know better, no touching mistress until she says it's okay.” She kissed my neck and traced her tongue all over my bare skin. Her trail led down my chest as she sucked my nipple into her mouth.She bit down on. Later, as Trisha sat on the couch she read through some of my folder on crossdressing erotica, some stories I had written, some I had clipped and saved, and eyed some photos in my scrap-book. I noticed that Trisha squirmed a little as she read on. Her conversation began turning more and more to sex. There was a tone of sexual arousal that permeated her voice. She put down the folder, dimmed the lights, then ordered Racheal and I over to her. Trisha sat on the edge of the plush couch and had. More

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