You are standing in the corner of the room, glancing downward as I approach, biting your lip.
“My Mistress told me not to talk to you.”
I grin.
“Did she say I was a bad influence?”
The blush rises in your face.
“Yesss,” you gasp as my finger traces your thigh, feeling the edge of your stocking top as you almost subconsciously part your legs.
“You won’t tell, will you?” you plead.
“Of course not, I’m good at keeping secrets.”
My finger skims over your little pink panties before I turn and walk to the bathroom, knowing you are following.
