She bit her lip occasionally, wincing and gasping in apparent discomfort, but kept to her task doggedly. As if she was desperately trying to submit to my will in atonement for her uncondoned orgasm. Once again I was having difficulty keeping my eyes on the road as I tried to observe as much of her anal masturbation as I could.

I arrived at a small park with a bench next to an alley in the subdivision. I pulled my Cadillac to the curb and shut my lights off as Mrs. Scott continued thrusting three fingers into her rectum. She was clearly enjoying the sensation now. Whether it was strictly physical, or psychological because I had ordered her, or a combination, I was unsure. Not that it mattered particularly.