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“A red ribbon.”

“Yeah.” Chris didn't want to interpret her look. Mockery? Satisfaction? He laughed when he thought about his elderly neighbor, who had given him two yards of red gift-wrap ribbon and tattled about gifts and girlfriends and the merriness of being in love. “It's quite a strange thing. Why did you want me to wear it?”

“I love the look.” The tone told him to shut up and enjoy the ride. Ginger sat before him and bent to pull the ribbon with her teeth. She pushed the pants to the floor and spread Chris's legs as wide as they would go.

“Your driver…” Chris was close to the point he didn't care who else watched him dwindle in a pool of hormones.

Her hands massaged the sides of his buttocks. “He doesn't watch.”

He let it go. He didn't want to argue, no matter if the driver told the next one at the traffic lights about his size. Ginger's teeth and tongue were on his balls, trying to untie the ribbon. He closed his eyes and gave in to the sensation and the slow building arousal. She bit him once and he gasped, but didn't stop her. He was too far gone for words and the slight pain only added to the wonderful feeling of being seduced. He felt great in his skin. Taken with lust. Her chin was on him, gently rubbing, hair tickling his soft flesh, while her tongue slipped under the ribbon to slowly lift it. The bow was already undone, the knot loosened. The slight pull brought a moan from him. He shivered with delight, mouth open, head leaned back slack against the leather of the seat. Then she had the ribbon between her teeth.

Masthead: Balkau, Berlin, Germany

balkau-web (at) power (dot) ms