Zoya 22 never married lives in Kiev Russia in a difficulty situation, our conversations are limited by her limited english. She agrees to my stipulation of surrendering to me as many times as I require through a interpreter. I bring her to the United States, she quietly sighs and squints her eyes at the screen, forcing her attention on the film, but less than a minute later, her eyes have drifted back to the millimeters that are between her leg and mine. The heat between our bodies tingles momentarily. Last night, on this same couch, we had sat together and she hadn’t noted the space between them. Now, with the memory of my heavy, meaningful gaze fresh in her mind, it’s all she can think about. From the corner of her eye, she catches me steal a glance at her. She swallows as I move my left hand to rest on my knee. I idly scratches at my jeans for a moment, and then relaxes, leaving my hand there. She releases the breath she held. She needed to calm down. As soon as she thinks this, my fingers cross the space between us and come to rest gently on her knee. Her already rigid frame solidifies and she doesn’t move as I slowly trail my fingertips along the seams and folds of her jeans. The electric heat that had tingled minutes ago now burns white-hot where my fingers touch. Her heart rate increases, and a flush spreads up her neck. As I leisurely traces the seam leading from her knee up towards her inner thigh, her stomach flutters with an army of butterflies, and she suddenly has to see my expression. She expected to see me turn toward the screen, pretending I wasn’t teasing her with my idle hand, but instead she turns her head and finds my penetrating gaze completely focused on her. There’s a seriousness to my expression that tightens things inside her, while intimidating her at the same time. While she had definitely fantasized about the possibilities of meeting me in person, she didn’t think she had prepared herself for just how I would treat her. Her confidence, typically a strength of hers, feels weak when under the pressure of the heavy look in my eyes. But, taking a deep breath, she tries to swim toward the surface of this hot lust.

” What are you thinking?” I surprise her by asking. she hesitates. After a moment, I change position as if to wait out my silence, twisting around so that my left arm rests on the back of the couch, while my right hand takes over tracing feather-light patterns on her thigh. As nervous as she is right now, she is also thrilled, not to mention: aroused. She is not sure if she ever mentioned to me that she doesn’t often wear panties; she regrets not wearing any tonight. She must be soaking through her jeans. I tickle her neck, playing with a strand of hair that’s hanging down from where the rest is pulled up with a clip. I trace a line of liquid fire gently down the side of her neck and across her right shoulder. She watches me, realizing she hasn’t moved. I’m looking at my fingers as they trace imaginary lines across her upper back. My eyes flick up to meet hers. They hold all the promise of dominance and sex. ” I need to go to the bathroom,” She said. Suddenly she has her back to the wall as the full weight of my body molds itself to hers, pinning her in place. I grab her wrists roughly and traps them above her head with one hand. She whimpers with pleasure and submits to my rebuke for the scratches she had made. My mouth against hers is no longer gentle, but heavy and hungry. She struggles against my grip but this vice-like hold doesn’t let up. My free hand pulls her attention away from her helplessness as it finds it’s way under her shirt, tickling the skin of her stomach. The feel of my fingers against her bare waist ignites an already burning desire and she makes another noise for me. God she is so wet. Despite the firm grip of the hand restraining her wrists, my roaming fingers are gentle. She is not expecting this – this delightful combination of dominance and care. I trace the curve of her waist up to her ribs and then wraps my arm behind her back, hugging her to me, kneading her skin.

Abruptly, I release her hands and lines of fire burn through her as I move both hands down to her ass, then I yank her jeans down. I turn her so she is facing the wall, my knee spreads her legs as I position myself between them.
She feels my hand rubbing her inner thighs.