Salome moans a high-pitched lilt that sends thrills through me. Her hips undulate, dancing upon my lips, tracing a meandering path for her pearl along my outstretched tongue. Back and forth her hips rock, as I taste the One I adore. I see her, mouth open, eyes rolled back, her belly muscles stretching, and breasts softly swaying as she makes of me her mount. 

Involuntarily I reach up, wanting to hold that sweet bottom as she leaks down upon me. 

“Who gave you permission to touch,” Mistress Salome snaps, slightly breathless, but continues her ride upon my mouth. 

I am good, returning my arms to my sides, gripping my own thighs. I taste her and feel her in my own cunt. My naked, empty cunt, twitching back and forth, squeezing and releasing, begging to be touched. But I will NOT touch her, not without Mistress's permission. I hold my arms at my side and compromise, squeezing my thighs together, trying to squeeze my cunt with indirect sensation. That is permitted, Salome will not punish me for this tiny act of disobedience. No, she writhes on me, her juices smearing my lipstick and making my cheeks shine with joy. 

I want to lick her, I want to hurry this but know by now that Mistress Salome sets her own pace. And she moans again. And I concentrate upon the feeling of her sex on my mouth. I can feel her muscles tightening, feel her muscles drawn tight as a drum. Her mound presses on my nose and I keep my gaze upward, looking Her in the eyes. 

Her hips press hard, grinding. Her fingers fly to her own breasts, pulling hard on her nipples. She is close now, I can sense it, from the many times we have been in this position, her legs surrounding my head, her pussy leaking down on it, and the sweet motion of my Queening. 

I picture her eruption, remembering our first time, out on a date, dancing, and rushing to the ladies' room together. I was pushed to my knees, her skirt raised as I was fed what I craved. 

Salome whimpers, one moan running into the next, her chest heaving as she rides. Oh, I feel her moment coming, I anticipate it and it makes my own cunt tighten and tingle with need. I hope I'm doing this well enough, I hope, I hope, I hope because if have maybe, just maybe I'll be fucked. 

Salome screams and I feel her pussy lips convulse. I feel fresh juice pour out of her onto me as her body bucks and pussy slams into my face. My lips will be tender tomorrow but I love it, and feeling this my cunt dare hopes it will be noticed. Oh, how I hope, how I pray and crave this, I hope how she will do something, anything to grant me relief. Instead, I drink my love, and she rocks back and forth upon me. 

Salome rises from me, moves across the room to gather her robe. I pout a little, but it is my place my role to be the stage upon which she dances.