‘I can do that.’
‘I know you can.’
He raised the leg that was crossed over the other, waving his polished shoe in the air beneath my nose.
‘Look at my shoe, Sarah. It’s got a kind of white patch on it. Do you know what that is?’
Yes, I knew what that was. I swallowed guiltily, remembering how he had played footsie with my pussy under the table.
‘Yes, Sir.’
He waited for me to elaborate.
‘It’s, er, from me. When I was wet.’
‘When you were wet. You were very wet, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Are you wet now?’
‘I … don’t know.’ I did know. I was soaking.
‘I don’t tolerate lying, you know, Sarah. But I’ll give you another chance. Are you wet now?’
I heaved the words out. ‘I think so, Sir.’
‘You’d better make sure.’
I blinked.
He raised his eyebrows and nodded downwards.
‘Yes. You know what to do. Go on.’
I flapped for a second before touching my fingertip, as quickly and lightly as I could, to my vagina.
‘Well? Show me.’
I held out my hand, the finger pointing upwards. He took me by the wrist, bent forward and sniffed.
‘You are,’ he said. ‘That’s good. We can move on to the next stage.’
‘Oh. Can we, Sir?’
; ‘Yes. Open your lips and show me your clit. I want to see it.’
I couldn’t help a sigh and a grimace.
‘Another thing you’re going to have to learn, Sarah, is a quick and graceful response to my commands. I think we’ll try that next.’
I leaned back on my calves, trying to angle my pussy towards his view, and splayed the lips with my fingers. He leaned forward, frowning over his inspection, which seemed to last a long time.
‘You’re definitely ready,’ he diagnosed. ‘Why are you wet again, Sarah? I haven’t touched you. Is it because you’re naked?’
‘Partly, I think. And just … you. Being you. The way you are.’