Oh how Megan wanted to surrender completely, to become a squirming, writhing and pleading little ball of submissiveness. Something in her would not let her give in so completely. Sure she would do what she was ordered and do it to the best of her ability but she could not bring herself to go too far. She struggled and held back valiantly because she knew the reward at the end would be all the sweeter. Isla seemed to enjoy her resistance, such as it was. Being honest with herself, Megan liked the little power play herself even though she knew that there was no way she would come out the victor. Isla was toying with her and still had her reeling.<br/><br/>Just as that thought was acknowledged in her mind, the punk girl's hips rocked forward. The sudden spike of pleasure set her world spinning. One finger, that was all the effort it took to have her struggling to breathe and whimpering her need. The flush of pink flooded her pale cheeks again and she felt ashamed at the wetness she felt soaking into her panties from her parted folds. Her grit her teeth this time and her hips managed to keep from questing forward for more pleasure. She wanted to, god did she want to, but she hoped that if Isla failed to get the react she wanted that it would provoke her to giving more.<br/><br/>The illusion of hiding her arousal evaporated with the mournful whine that leapt from her throat the second that that teasing finger slipped from between her thighs. Even in the dim light the copious fluid soaked the long, slender digit was clear to them both. Megan's shame increased greatly at the sight of it. She could only stare, thinking that Isla was going to taste the wetness clinging to her finger. Her blush deepened every second until the girl looked like she was intensely sunburnt. What actually happened was infinitely more embarrassing... and arousing.  She would never have expected what Isla did but she did not pull away. She stayed rigidly still and stared wide-eyed as her own wetness was gently smeared along her lower lip. The scent of it filled her senses and her lips quivered enticingly.<br/><br/>Megan was still trying to discern what Isla wanted her to do and was just about to lick the fluid off when Isla beat her to it. The feel of the slippery muscle gliding over her lips shatters the stillness she had forced on herself and she squirms. Again the hand lightly squeezing her throat held her back from deepening the kiss like she so badly wanted to. Thankfully, Isla showed mercy and kissed her hard and deep, make the room spin even faster. Megan swore that she heard Isla moan a comment on her taste and the blush darkened more. It darkened again when their tongues started to duel in her mouth and she tasted something on Isla's tongue.<br/><br/>The kiss is erotic in a way she could not put words to. She had kissed before of course but this was different. The hand tightening on her throat, making her pulse pound in her ear, was certainly not a help to her getting an ounce of her composure back. She was beyond caring though when Isla's commanding hand bent her back into the couch and she felt the woman tugging up her dress. The pleasure built but she shame she felt at having her dress bunched around her waist like she was a teenager getting felt up behind the bleachers cooled her ardour enough to keep her teetering on the edge.<br/><br/>It was driving her insane how easily Isla seemed able to hold her there no matter how aroused she felt. Still she keeps her legs apart in the hopes that the punk girl will give her the release she needs. The hand sliding around to grope her ass made the dazed lawyer squeak and at the command she did lift her hips. She wanted the dress out of the way and her black, lacy panties torn from her. She wanted Isla to give her mercy but she was still too proud to beg. Pride was part of who she was and the veneer of control, while fractured, was still there. It seemed that Isla was truly going to have to break her to get what she wanted.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>