A taste...

Mary was startled out of her thoughts by her traitorous hand darting into the dresses leg slit. She tried to pull her gloved hand out, but the will to struggle left her body when she felt what her fingers were doing. Her possessed fingers were much more skilled in the ways of pleasure than she was, it seemed. The first orgasm came fast, and her devious fingers instantly went to work on the second, giving her no time to catch her breath. She came again, and her hand finally stopped it's furious thrusting.

"That wasn't so bad," she panted, trying to reassure herself. "I haven't been fucked like that since college." Control hadn't been returned to her yet, and her hand hadn't left her moist slit. She could feel it probing gently inside her. "What the..." she started, but was cut off as her gloved fingers, dripping with love juices, were jammed into her mouth. She let out a muffled protest and tried to remove it, but failed. She stood there, hand in, mouth, tasting herself, and was powerless to stop. Control returned to her arm, which she quickly removed.

Mary stood there a moment, thinking. She couldn't remove her outfit by herself, her money was still in the bank, and a more immediate concern: she needed a shower. With the running she had done in the leather dress, and all the orgasms, she smelled like sweat and sex. But did she have time for one right now? Could she even take one with this thing imprisoning her?