My sister,my sex slave(27)

Adam Wright would certainly want to know all about that.

She reached the old building that had been a carriage house and she wondered if she was expected to go inside. She didn't want to go inside. Big old buildings frightened her and she could not remember what Adam had told her. She could only recall that he had said that he would meet her at two at the carriage house.

He showed up like a wraith in the night. She was standing along in front of the big building one moment and the next he was standing beside her. She hadn't heard him approach and she had been looking around for him. In the brightness of the moonlight she could see the big grin on his face and she knew that he had been deliberately sneaky.

"Hello," he said, quietly. "Let's go inside. We can't talk out here very well."

She didn't answer him. He opened the door and they entered the carriage house. There was enough light for her to see the smile on his face and she knew a moment of great joy, simply because he was with her, because he was her friend, because she liked him and was happy with him. She didn't bother to analyze things but she did realize that she was glad that she had met him. She didn't really feel that she had to go beyond that conclusion right away.

"I made copies of the lists," she said. "I brought it all with me."

She took the papers out of her skirt pocket and she handed it to him. He took it and put it into his pocket. She waited for him to say something but he didn't. He was staring at her and the way he was using his eyes was making her nervous, unsure of herself.

"Aren't you going to look at the lists?" she asked.

"I'll check them over in the morning," he said. "I can't see too well right now."

She stood close to him and she was shivering and that surprised her. She was suddenly, overwhelmingly conscious of his nearness, his maleness. Too, she was suddenly, inexplicably, weak. She wanted to say things to him, to explain to him that she was taking a big chance helping him. She wanted to tell him that she liked him, that she would help him any way just so that she could see him again. She wanted to say so many things and her mouth was dry, her tongue swollen and useless and she couldn't say a word. She just stood in front of him, trembling, shivering and when he reached for her, she swayed toward him with a feeling of gratitude. She needed something to hold on to.

He put his arms around her and then he was holding her to him tightly and she was standing with her arms around him, too, and her cheek was against his and it was all very wonderful, very strange and she could hardly breathe and she was ashamed of her weaknesses, her swift surrender to sexual excitement.

"You are so beautiful," he said, softly. "You are the prettiest girl I have ever known. So pretty."

He moved his head and then his lips found hers and he kissed her and she kissed him, too, and then she could feel the quickening sensations in her loins, the delicious trickling sensations deep within her sexual cavity. She was shaking violently and he knew it.

His hands were busy with her breasts and somehow his fingers were fondling her bare breasts beneath the sweater and his mouth was kissing her and she could hear the crazy words that he was saying to her and she wished that he would stop talking. He didn't have to explain anything to her.

"I'm so sorry," he was saying. "I'm not like this. Really, I'm not like this. I just can't help myself. You are so beautiful and I am so crazy about you. I just can't help myself."

He lifted her sweater and then his mouth was kissing her breasts and sucking them and she was moaning and squirming in his grasp and she was wishing that he would not put his hand down below because she knew that she was sopping wet down there and he would think her messy and inelegant. She shivered then as his fingers found the place of greatest torment and she gasped and suffered in excruciating pleasure as his finger slid far up inside of her and she reacted with a speed that was indecent. The whole thing was ridiculous. She was the ice

maiden, she was frost and inhibitions and uselessness and the whole thing was a waste of time…

He was holding her close and she was making soft, mewling sounds in her throat and then she was suddenly lost, driven into a state of ecstasy and euphoria by his skillful fingers and she knew that she was shrieking crazy words into his ear and he was moving his finger in and out of her sexual sheath like it was a piston.

"Ooooooooooh ," she heard herself saying, "Faster faster… oooooohhhh, I'm coming… I'm-comingggggggggggg, coming. oh, I am aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh."

She was out of her mind with sensual bliss for a long time and when she came in his hand she was sure that he would hate her and think her a real pig. That worried her, but she realized finally, that he was holding her tightly and he was kissing her passionately and he was saying crazy things, too.