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“I won’t make them complicated, but there’s a small personal deviation from the usual. If you need a short break, if something’s just not feeling right, if something hurts that’s not supposed to hurt, or if there’s something you want to talk through before we continue, say the word yellow. If you’re unable to talk, which is definitely going to happen from time to time, strike something or someone three times with your hand or your foot. You won’t ever be completely immobilized — too much risk. His hands were firmly on my thighs, holding me up, taking my weight, freeing his hips to thrust forward and back. Up and in. My leg was wrapped around his waist, pulling my pelvis closer to his, matching his movements as best I could, considering my upright position. But it was enough. The upright angles of our movements applied just the right amount of friction to my clit, massaging it with his skin, tickling it with his pubic hair. We had given up kissing. This was about our bodies. He looked. The ballroom is magical. Soft lighting resembles a cool summer evening sky, just when the lights of the stars begin to twinkle and the sun is nearly completely down into the horizon. The ballroom’s Victorian motif is that of crimson and cream in the wallpapers and curtains. A gorgeous scene painted into the ballrooms massive domed ceiling, depicts Victorian lovers embracing and dancing amidst a flight of fairies surrounding them and lighting up the evening sky for all the couples, who are too. All I could hear was the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears and the sound of him shuffling in his seat as he leaned over and undid my pants. My cock was throbbing, I had no idea his touch, a man’s touch, could turn me on so much. When his fingers wrapped around my shaft, my eyes rolled back into my head and I felt as if I was melting into my seat. It felt so good. Without saying a word, he leaned into my lap and I felt him take my hard cock into his warm, wet, wonderful mouth. My head.
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