The anticipation of where it will stroke next wakes up every nerve-ending in your body. All you can hear is your own breath, gasping each time the fea...her touches. I occasionally break contact, changing where the feather touches next, keeping you guessing; increasing your anticipation. You wriggle a little as I run the feather along the bottom of each buttock, raising your bum in the air as you become aroused.I step away from the end of the bed and move close to your head, I run my hand through. I was nervous, but tried to hide it - I, myself had not heard thesolution."Don't let me down!" I silently hoped.Barbara and Paul were like a well-rehearsed duet, and their solution wasmusic to my ears. When they had finished we turned and exited withoutwaiting for any acknowledgement.- - - -"So, Barbara, just who is 'Sir Michael' then?" I asked with a touch ofjealousy."Oh, just somebody I know ... through my other businesses ... you knowhow it is."Barbara was teasing me, so a game had. More

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