handover clothes

“The closest thing I’ve ever felt was…” She paused and looked at Noah. “It was like when we sparred at the academy, and you stepped into my sensory field while your magic was active. It was that same nauseous feeling, but a thousand times worse.”Noah wasn’t sure what to say.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

“Yeah, I liked it too much, and that it why it’s not going to happen again,” she said with perhaps too much candor. I stepped toward her and hugged her. She put her hands against my chest as if to push me off, but then changed her mind and let me hold her. Her fingers played with the placket of my shirt. I lifted her chin to face me. “We can’t…” She looked frightened but pressed her lips against mine as we shared another amazing kiss. I dropped my hand and cupped her pretty ass. She didn’t resist. I slowly lifted her short dress and reached inside her lacy panties and caressed her baby smooth ass cheek.