David had stood then and shed his rumpled clothing before kneeling down to pick Chelsea up in his arms and carry her into his bedroom. That had been only the beginning of the most intellectually, emotionally and (of course) sexually fulfilling relationship Chelsea had ever experienced. And now, a year later, she and David were still head over heels in love with each other. They called and emailed and texted each other several times a day. They talked about everything under the sun. They loved being together and lusted after each other unfailingly. They had long since moved in together and marriage was definitely something they both wanted when they were a little better off indian financially. For Chelsea it was the happiest time of her life and she believed it was for David as well. But… David had never spanked her again. And though in some ways Chelsea was glad about that, not wanting to displease him for Brunette any reason, there was something about that night that nagged at her imagination, a new film loop in the projector: not only being spanked by David, but spanked in a public – or nearly public – situation. Spanked the way babe he had spanked her in the vestibule that night, but the way she’d re-imagined it later, with her skirt up and panties down…and harder, and longer. They were usually able to communicate their sexual desires very frankly and openly. They had experimented with bondage and role-playing and had delved into the Kama Sutra. Chelsea had even bought David a remote-controlled vibrator to use on her sometimes when they went out. But for some reason Chelsea could never bring herself to mention spanking, and David never did, so it remained what Chelsea told herself was a tiny and insignificant lack in their otherwise magnificent sex life, not at all important. Except for that occasional annoying whir of the projector. It wasn’t that Chelsea had never been late again either, certainly. Sometimes her clients were late themselves, or needed more time than Chelsea had scheduled for them. Things happened. But if she was supposed to meet with David at a certain time and was running late she had always managed to let him know, amateur and usually well ahead of time. Though Lord knows she had often been tempted to simply show up late, without a word of explanation, just to see what would happen. But she just couldn’t.And now this. She’d had to go to the client’s office at the other end of the city. Had gotten so involved in sorting out the chaos the project had fallen into during her absence that she’d completely lost track of the time until she was out on the sidewalk trying to hail a taxi - in the pouring rain, for which she was completely unprepared, not having so much as a portable umbrella, never mind a raincoat. And then the discovery of her dead cell-phone. This was bad. This was very bad. Chelsea paid off the cab, dashed up the outside stairs to the apartment building, fumbled in her purse for her keys and let herself in. The building was an old four-story and long overdue for renovation, which is why Chelsea and David had been able to afford a fairly large apartment there. The ancient elevator was out of order, which was not unusual at the best of times and only to be expected on a day like this, Chelsea thought as she hurried up the stairs, soaked to the Solo skin and vainly trying to squeeze the water out of her hair. Their apartment was on the top floor, and as Chelsea reached the landing before the final flight of stairs she looked up… And saw David waiting at the top. His arms were crossed, never a good sign. Chelsea ran up the stairs to him, babbling apologies and explanations, but David simply took her in his arms and hushed her, kissing her wet hair and saying, “There, there, it’s all right. Happy anniversary, darling.” Reassured, Chelsea kissed him back and rested for a moment in his embrace. Looking over his shoulder she could see that he’d left the apartment door open, displaying the romantic glow of candlelight within: their celebration dinner. Nothing else was in the room other than the bed on which he lay, and Michael had no clue where he was. All things babe come to an end though. “But, I want Solo to talk to him Brunette about it every day! “This is nice,” he said. There were the usual pictures of naked women, women spreading their vagina lips wide, women's mouths hovering over a penis, women's lips touching another woman's lips. -"GO Ahead, TUG ON THE SLAVES RINGS", Tallesman commanded the bikers as Pinkie thrust out her tits, encouraging the men indian to pull on her nipple ring-cords. She doesn’t try to cover herself, she feels that would just be pointless and look silly. He also wore boots and had a red bandana wrapped around his head. I don't want you to rush on my account." Vallerie had been lucky that Mitchell was one of the few, but the man was hard to get to. “Oh, you want a lawyer, do you?” Henry asked. What if her action made her email them to somebody else? They are so into each other it’s scary…almost as scary as you and me. They’re not living together yet, but ‘YET’ is the operative word. “We’re giving you a new look,” laughed one of the men. "Uh, yeah, those would definitely work." After dinner, we walked down the River Walk and talked. Though I can not see both groups working together. .........thats right, i can bust one with a soft amateur dick....but anyway im going to try finding somone new to help take her mind off of her coworker..