The girl of my dreams, think Elisha Cuthbert with shoulder length blonde hair, beautiful light tanned skin, so soft and silky to the touch. Passionate dark green eyes, which seems to tunnel into your very soul. So eloquent and regal in appearance yet so warm and friendly, she is the whole package and more. I must admit I’m slightly biased concerning my sweet pet.
Amy is around 5’7” with a beautifully curved figure toned in all the right places, yet at the same time demur. Her slender throat is ripe for nuzzling against. Her petite breasts, young and pert are enough to keep me enthralled for days on end. Her nipples so hyper sensitive they always seem stimulated. Her body is a temple for my carnal lust and emotional well being alone. Her waist is so smooth and dainty I can stroke it endlessly, legs that any man or woman would kill for always silky smooth and bronzed.
She is a tiny ethereal beauty. Just to be in the same room as her was breath taking.
That wasn’t her only beauty, her personality and wit were something else, wise beyond her 21 years with the innocence of a child, but understanding the reality of life.
Passionate and loving Amy is a dream come true, my dream in fact.
I have always known that this woman would change my world.
Whilst shy amongst most people with me she is a very different person, wild and kinky to the point of being a Nymphomaniac concerning sex.
A true submissive Amy enjoys serving the every whim of her master. Me. Nothing makes me happier than when Amy is on her knees naked with her check resting on the floor, hands crossed behind her back begging for release from me.
Even better shackled and spread eagle on a giant four-poster bed dressed only in a tiny white bra and a pair of white cotton panties. Picture the scene. Amy writhing around as I gently stroke her body with my black gloved hands. The texture from the leather gloves heightening her pleasure.
I see the wicked smile and hear the sigh of relief as I rip the bra and panties from her body roughly. As my sex-goddess thinks, her release is nearly at hand.
I slowly move my hands up her legs focusing on her skin, moving closer to her glistening wet pussy. Tempted to run my hand over her small tuff of blonde hair before inserting my finger into her, teasing her until she squeal's for more.
Release will not come that easy for my dear first one tho, no. Pleasure in all forms must be earned. I continue to run my hands over her legs and stomach, my temperature rising every minute knowing my temptation is growing ever more. My reasoning was slowly turning to carnal lust and finally, the loss of control would begin. As a dominatrix, my control is always a requisite in any session.
I resist further mental digressions and concentrate on the sensation; I slowly take off the gloves and run my hand over her stomach. I can feel the heat from her body, I run my hand up between her breasts and halter only for a second, just a second to feel her lungs filling with air, and feel her pulse racing. The rise and fall of her chest soothes me in a way I have never before experienced. I stop to ask myself how this woman can make me feel this way.
I of course already know the answer, but knowledge without understanding is meaningless.
I continue sliding my hands up and down her body, never stopping for a second. Up between her breasts ascending to her elegant shoulders and luscious neck then along her arms, I hold her hands gently locking my fingers with hers. My face is mere inches from hers; I feel her breath on my face and take a second to process the scent she is wearing. Our breathing was becoming ever more laboured.
As I straddle her shackled body I feel myself harden, and press against her stomach. Her body begins to quiver from the extra stimuli. I lower my face towards hers; it almost feels like time as ended before our lips meet.