At The End Of The Video, The Fucker Farted On...
She recognized the tone of voice, the same appeal to excellence that had motivated her to practice pliés and arabesques nearly every day for so many years, making her body strong and supple, her dance routines precise and graceful. But even knowing the old motivational tricks, she was moved by Pierce's words. And shaken, too — the lecture and the heat in the room had conspired against her. She felt beads of sweat forming all over her body, and even worse, it was monsoon season between her legs. It was impossible to sit still and she almost cried out with relief when her drawing teacher asked them to close their eyes for another of his guided meditations.Yes, oh yes, she must relax and listen, and follow the breath, and go so very deep. And yes, she would allow this voice to enter her being in a wholly new way, slipping through all of the cracks in her defenses. Her breathing was going in and out, in and out, a steady rhythm that would take her so deep, and open her so wide. She would. I smiled to myself. This evening definitely was turning out better than I had hoped! After a bit I sat down and she bought me another drink. We chatted about this and that while getting just a bit plastered. The conversation took a turn for the better and soon we were talking about things we shouldn’t discuss in a public bar. The bartender winked at me, knowingly. Suddenly she got up and took me by the hand. I followed her like a puppy. Walking by a utility closet she ducked into it, pulling the door shut behind us. “I don’t have much time,” she said sternly, leaning back against the edge of the sink. She didn’t explain and I didn’t care. She lifted a delicate high-heeled foot and set it on one of the shelves near the sink, making her skirt ride up, exposing a perfect white lacy thong. “Get on your knees. Now.” The tone in her voice let me know she wanted to be in total control. I wasn’t about to argue! I got down in front of her and kissed her ever so gently right square in the.
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