I wanted her to live with the fear that someone would see her underarm tattoo, live with the knowledge that she could never forget to keep her arms do...n, never let her guard slip. It was worse than handcuffs or chains, this was a permanent reminder that she had to keep her arm in a particular position. Tattos could be forgotten, she could adjust to a piercing, but this would haunt her constantly. She could never relax. She could never forget. It would remind her every minute of every day that. I was always turned on by scent, something that she definitely tookadvantage of for the first time. I was quiveringwith excitement, my shoulders and arms shaking violently with the need to holdher in my arms and feel her skin against mine. She moved nearme, barely making contact. The way her clothes brushed against my bare skin wasmore erotic than any caress. She movedcloser to my face and I leaned forward to kiss her, our lips coming togethergently yet firmly. The kiss soon became all I could. More

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