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ead, the first time Sayaka Isoyama had not directed action. The thought was
rapidly chased away, however, by the dizzying sensations Sayaka Isoyama was
drowning in. Maiden, Mother, and Crone, Sayaka Isoyama thought hazily, what a
consort he would make.
He pulled away from Sayaka's suddenly, stilling their undulations. His
eyes were closed. "Lady . . . " he trailed off, his gentle voice
holding onto the word.
"Control," Sayaka Isoyama whispered back to him, fondling his jaw lovingly as
she saw his jet lashes fluttering. They were both silent for long
agonizing moments. Then, "Are you ready?" Sayaka Isoyama asked him. He nodded.
"Yes . . . " he replied with sensuous sibilance. And he resumed, for
a brief time -- only a scant few minutes. He pulled away from her
more urgently this time, his jaw clenched.
Through trembling lips, he breathed, "Lady . . . I don't think . . ."
His eyes were wide, filled with despair and pleading. Sayaka Isoyama caressed
his soft skin, his beautiful buttocks, with Sayaka's gentle hands.
"Doctor," Sayaka Isoyama replied, Sayaka's voice feathery and light, filled with
understanding,
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