Thank you ” I said as she rejoined me in bed.
“No… Thank you! That was amazing!” she said, leaning in to kiss me. She sniffed, and licked her lips when she pulled back. “You smell and taste like my pussy. And I taste goooooood!”
“No argument there.” I tried to lean in for another kiss, but she put her hand on my chest.
“I really hate to do this… Boy, do I hate to do this… but, I have to go. I work early tomorrow morning, and need to get home. I wish I could spend the night, but I have a feeling that would result in getting no sleep at all.” She was slipping back into her bra. A minute later, she was coming out of the bathroom, zipping her dress as she went. I tried not to look disappointed. “Baby, we will definitely be continuing this later. Don’t worry.” She patted my dick through the sheets. “Where are my shoes? “
Um… Kitchen. Oh, and don’t forget these… “I said, her thong hanging from my finger.
She kissed me again. “You keep those for now” she said, tucking them in my mouth with a giggle.
I pulled them out. “So, I’ll just hold them hostage until you do what I want? “
A few minutes later, she was out the door. I heard the Mustang fire up, and the rumble faded into the distance.
I looked at her thong, still in my hand, and sighed. I killed the light and headed upstairs to sleep.
When I woke in the morning, there was a text on my phone. “Still soaking wet” was all it said, with a happy face. Later, another one arrived “Thongnapper!”
I played along sending her a pic of her thong, laying on the front page of today’s newspaper with a pair of scissors. “If you want to see your thong alive again, you know what to do” I typed.
Moments later, she responded. “Oh no mister! Please don’t hurt my thong! I’ll do ANYTHING! LOL”
About 1 p.m., there was a familiar knock on the door. I opened it, and Emily… I mean, Officer Brewster, quickly came in. I closed the door behind her. She went straight to the kitchen.