Polina is on her third pair of panties for me.
One is in my pocket. One is in her pocket. The next pair also is going to be in my pocket.
Between the first and the second, I instructed her to make her fingers smell like her cunt. The scent was barely discernible. “I’m fresh!” she said. “I just showered.”
Um. I know pussy and if her fingers were inside of her, hers is sweet and mild – milder than any I can recall. Time will tell….
Between the second and the third panties, I instructed her to try to come, but not to succeed. And between the third and the fourth, I instructed her to come. I don’t know if she will. I also told her some stories from my life, about my dating, about my friends.
And just before I most recently sent her to the bathroom, I asked her to tell me a story. Your husband, I said, has given you permission to spend an evening with me as you wish, doing what you want. He’s told you that the conditions are: you text him before, during, and after, and that you tell him what happens, but that he appreciates that what I have to offer you will benefit him.
She started to tell me the story. In version one, we met in a hotel room. I said, wait, what? We’re not having drinks?
Version two began with us having drinks, but then led quickly to a hotel room. Wait, what? I said. We’re not having dinner?
Before version three happened, I sent her to the bathroom.
Change your panties, I said. Show me your cunt and your ass in each pair, and try to cum.
When you return, you can finish your story.
Polina’s version three featured me tying her up and going down on her and then her tying me up and riding me. You’re not gonna suck my cock? I asked.
Oh, she exclaimed. Yes, first, after I tie you up. I’ll do that.
Yes, Polina. Yes you will. Not now. Not even soon. But one day.
