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Roxy finally makes it big in TV drama.

The squawking became faster and louder when a finger ran slowly across her mons.

"Cynthia," I said, loudly enough to be heard. "If you keep wriggling like that you'll tear your dress. Stop struggling about and think of what you're doing."

Oddly enough she had enough common-sense to actually listen to what I said. She stopped wriggling, and then pulled first one arm free and then the other, finally pushing the shift up off her head, leaving her standing in front of me, naked but free.

"You, you, how dare you do that. Give me my dress."

"The undercover pirate would have had a problem with you, wouldn't he," I said, tossing the dress to one side.

"No, don't go grabbing for it." I caught her as she reached for the dress.

"We'll now transfer my earlier question from the book to you."

"What questions?"

"Basically, will you be rescued before I have my wicked way with you and are you going to struggle or succumb to me charms?"

The look on her face went from angry to wary. Until that moment I don't think she realised that she was in danger of more than a bit of friendly groping.

"You wouldn't," she said carefully, more in hope than belief.

"Consider it a belated birthday present for both of us," I said softly, and my hand gently cupped a breast.

She looked down at it, and there was quite a contrast to my tanned hand and her white breast. Before she could push the hand away my other hand held her other breast. She grabbed at my hands and tugged on them, but it was easy to see that she was going through the motions. She just seemed to pluck at my fingers, not even trying for a firm grip.

"Stop it," she gasped. "I don't want this and you can't just grab me like that."

"Is this better?" I asked, one hand sliding down to cup her mound.

"No," she said, and now she was squeaking slightly. "Just let me go."

Unfortunately for Cynthia, she was too fascinated by what I was doing to put up a determined resistance. Hell, all she really had to do was jump back and run. Or scream. Instead she just kept making feeble little protests and trying to push my wandering hands away.

She must have felt she had won a minor victory when she managed to pull my hand off her breast, but quickly realised otherwise when I unzipped.

"Oh my god," she gasped, a touch of horror in her voice. "Put that thing away."

That thing, indeed. It was quite a nice erection. Obviously Cynthia needed to be more appreciative of the good things in life. I slid both hands around her, closing on her bottom and drawing her against me. My erection was now pressed firmly against her.

With Cynthia snuggling up against me I could slip a hand down her bottom and between her legs, teasing her flesh from an unexpected direction. Pulling away from my hand she found herself rubbing against my erection. Pushing away from my erection and she was pushing her pussy firmly up against exploring fingers.

I let Cynthia dither for a few moments, pressing alternatively against my cock and then against my hands. Finally she tried to stand still, only to find my hand now urging her closer to me. She was cursing me softly, defiantly, but still under my control.

I sat down, erection jutting up proudly. Cynthia looked down at it, swallowed and looked away. I pulled her forward to she was standing straddling me. One hand on her bottom held her where I wanted her while my other hand was exploring her, fingers dipping inside her.

She protested and pleaded. She explained why I couldn't do this. She pointed out the consequences. She slapped at the hand invading her privacy. She did everything a good girl should do to show her reluctance. Except scream and run away.

She was wet inside, my fingers sliding along the dampness. She was also hot and sensitive, writhing gently under my touch. I couldn't help but feel that she was pushing herself against my touch more than she was trying to pull away.

I moved my hand around to her bottom again, pulling her even closer to me.

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