"It's only for three weeks," she whispered. "You can do it."

"Yes, Miss."

"Good girl."

But her Miss was barely out of the state when the feelings started to overwhelm her.

"Don't touch... don't touch," she whimpered like a mantra.

As she gazed at the smooth velvet fabric of the settee, she stepped closer.

"It's not touching," she reasoned with herself as she ground down, rubbing her aching neglected clit along the arm rest.

It was only afterwards, in the cold light of the post-orgasm comedown that she realised just what a stain those needy pussy juices can leave behind.