I was a bit angry, so I told her “ask my mom for the sweets”. She coyly told me “how can I ask your mother for the sweets”. I said “why can�...�t you ask her for it?”. She said “after I told her about what you tried with me, how can I ask her for sweets for your passing”. I was shocked. I told her “why did you tell my mother about what I did, could you not have kept quiet about it. I had pleaded with you to not tell my mom”. She said “you never even used to speak with me earlier. You just suddenly. No single word. Not even a lie. From a detected lie they could draw conclusions onto the truth.Once again the brutal Gestapo torturer brought down his vicious instrument, eliciting a scream by hitting her left nipple with the metal tip.He had started the interrogation of the dirty-blonde British spy, hanging naked by her arms, with a cat o’ nine. He had pulled her so high her bare bound feet had left the floor of the dark cellar room, and he had whipped her every time her white silk body had. I kissed my way back up her body, over her breasts and planted a long lingering kiss on her lips, caressing her cheekbone with my hand. “I can taste myself on you.” she smiles sexily, “I taste good.” * I quickly undress, standing in just my shorts. They were uncomfortably tight as I had a huge hard on, her eyes don’t leave the bulge as she rises from the bed and stands facing me. Her palm traces my length back and forth through the fabric of my shorts, lightly massaging my already engorged. Now I was playing the adult. He had better snap out of this because I still had a few days of him to myself and I would be getting what I wanted."I'm going" was all he managed to get out. He climbed out of bed trying to cover his limp cock with his shirt I had on the night prior. I didn't say it but was thinking what's the point. We both continued to dress in silence. Down to the car and off on the road with not so much as a word. Finally I had to break the ice so we could get past.
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