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I leaned against the shower wall, legs slightly parted, hands at my hips and my long hair strewn over my shoulders -- an open invitation. Again, the walls, the air -- all of the environment, it screamed and strained at the instinct to get away. Escape and save myself.But something else, again, held me in place. The curtains barely shifted as I felt a hand on my hip, and a cool, metallic, sharp object resting on my throat. I didn't care. My blood boiled and pulsed. It was instinct to grind myself into my attacker's body, from which an answer was received rather quickly. The stiletto knife slipped from position as he ground back, a soft, cooing moan pleading from his throat.He leaned against me, but the knife still remained at my flesh, harsh breaths near my cheek. His surrender yet claim only drove me further.Unbuttoning what felt like a trench coat, I tore his buttoned shirt and left it there to cling wet to his skin. His pants I undid and lowered, just enough. The silk. Using that as a “go ahead”, I pressed up behind her as close as I could and slipped my other hand down into the front of her dress and into her lace bra. Between my first and second fingers, I pinched her nipple gently. She let out a soft moan. I slid my middle finger between the lips of her pussy and began to gently glide it back and forth until I found her hardened clit. The minute I found it, her knees went weak and she fell back into me. She widened her legs a bit and I moved my finger faster then slowed as I moved it deeper and slid it into her wet pussy. She moaned and whimpered. Her pussy was hot and I could smell her scent. I added another finger and she began to move her hips. I pulled them back out and to her clit again. Tickled it till it stood higher. I removed my hand from her silky breast and fell to my knees. I crawled around to the front of her. There it was. My mistress’ pussy. Wet and wanting. Hot and dripping. I wrapped my strong arms around her legs to give her.
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