Julietastone Livejasmin's Profile

Languages: Español / English With Translate

Location: Colombia

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 22

Body Type: Petite - Skinny - Natural

Julietastone Livejasmin - Her ass was so amazing.

Hanging just over the edge of the cushion I slowly eased the skirt up around her waist, to the hilt. Then joining her satin belt, I spread her wide. I gathered her legs to put her feet up so her long, slender legs were wide apart. And clasping the chains to her wrists, I let her free. There was just enough freedom so she could run her dress over the edge of the bed. Not sure of how it would fall but sure enough, it dropped to the floor with a loud SLAP. "I told you I would punish you for that insolent behavior. And I have" she shouted accusingly. I smiled. "The fact that you disobeyed me is proof of that. Besides, it will teach you to be more careful when you get home." "Yes, Sir" she replied. And with that I got my arm twisted and my hand struck out accusingly. She arched her back accusing me of making fun of her, which I had done several times before. And that was another of my surprises this evening.

I heard a faint ringing, but never before did one think it would be this powerful. Over the years we have come to share a passion for BDSM, but to share no more than a mutual adoration. But deep down inside, each of us longs to have our fantasies fulfilled in person, by someone other than that intimate and trust breaking us over. It's a journey that has taken us over a decade, and a half. Until now. Thank you, Julietastone Livejasmin." Mistress Julietastone Livejasmin stood and smiled into the moonlight as I knelt on the soft, hardwood floor in the sitting area of her den. Standing in front of her, my eyes fluttered towards her body; we had engaged in passionate kissing for nearly two years. My feelings ran deeper than my desires for her. The four walls between us were extremely strong. She was my Mistress, and I was her Master. She had been dead a few hours, but had been in heaven when she came. The food she prepared for me was exquisite. The way her strong hands softly touched me in all the right places made my skin glow. It was intoxicating. She held me so tightly, her strength diffused to a feverish pitch, that the night I had been hospitalized for nearly a year.

"You have to do exactly as I say," she told me, her voice husky with absolute contentment and a barely perceptible struggle. "It's my job to pleasure you, to make you come. To make you want me and want to surrender to me. I'll do whatever you want me to do, to give you the best blow job I possibly can." I nodded my understanding, my body dewy but still dripping musky with arousal. "Are you certain you want to do this for me?" she had such a strong tone in her voice. "I do." I could see the tiny strip of black dress atop her perfectly rounded shoulders. The briefcase we had brought with us had fallen open on the bed. She climbed onto the bed and lay across my lap, she released my wrists from the chain between the posts and fixed my elbows into the four posts, knotted my arms firmly to the posts and locked my legs to the same. For a second I was fully submerged in blackness, black as her hair, covered in sheets. "What about the food?" she asked. "Everything you need, except the rings. That's our pre-dinner snack." She nodded her approval. Leaning forward, she lightly kissed the top of my head, then extended one long, fine finger. Biting down on it, she traced the small groove on my forehead with the tip of her index finger..

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