Only just managing to slip your arm out of the way. You're forced to clasp your hands in your lap, as Joanne sits atop the thin armrest of your chair. Her full rump spilling over on both sides. In a magnificent display of firm flesh.
Even if she'd left you enough room to stand. That simple act would've meant she'd have toppled to the floor if you'd attempted to escape.
"You're very beautiful." she tells you. Fixing you with locked gaze, that ensures her sincerity. You swallow and nod your head, hands useless in your lap, she caresses your cheek with the back of her hand.
"Oh, they're pretty." Her eyes flitting to your ear. Her hand lifting your hair aside, tucking it behind, as she admires your earrings.
As she leans closer, it's her bust that keeps you pinned in place. Resting atop your own. The warmth is almost unbearable. Her dominance terrifying, made worse, as her tongue darts out. Snaking your earlobe to her lips for her to nibble. Squirming in your seat, the sensation of powerlessness and vulnerability conspire to make you horny. To want to submit to her confidence, and surrender your every choice for her approval.
Holding and tilting your head, she steers your face to hers, as she plants a kiss on you. Her tongue diving between your lips, exploring your mouth, as her hands roam over your body. Your hands quiver restlessly in your lap, as hers squeeze your breasts, and tease your nips rolling them between thumb and forefinger, until your breath comes only in ragged gasps.
Breaking apart from the kiss, "These are mine." she tells you. Nodding you find words escape you. Nothing could signal your complete subservience than your yielding, complicit silence.
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