“Oh, I do. Very much.” Chloe touched my cock, stroking me through my pants. We leaned against each other, silent for some time. Mr Mortimer had taken me this far. But I was starting to lose him. Or I was merging with him. Eventually I said, “But I’m going to make your bottom even prettier. How am I going to do that, Chloe?”

“Are you going to strap me, sir?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Yes. Unh.” I took her hand away from my cock, so I could think. “Let’s see. Ah. Bend over the back of the chair, Chloe. Um. And reach forward, as far down as you can manage. Grab hold of the front chair legs if you can. Then spread your legs. Now, girl.”

“Yes, sir.” Chloe took the chair and turned the seat to the wall, so I would have plenty of room. She rested her belly against the chair back and bent over. She pulled up the hem of the skirt so it was well clear of her waist, and reached down to grasp the front chair legs, under the seat.

But she was, after all, a tiny woman, and that posture lifted her feet completely off the ground. She settled for holding the edge of the seat, standing on tiptoe.

She kicked the panties completely off and put her ankles outside the chair legs. She arched her back invitingly. Soft, round ivory she was, and gloriously muscular.

“Is this how you want me, sir?”