He started to go down on her, but looked up with a strange face."What's the matter, you taste funny." he said."Oh, I forgot something." she said, as s...e pulled out a white cream and put it on her clitoris. "This helps with the taste, for you my love."When they were done, Mark asked her about the cream."I've never heard of this stuff. What is it?" Have you heard of 'lit'?" she asked."No what's that?" That new drug in the news." The one that turns men into women?" Yes dear, that's the one.". He sighed and decided to find a restaurant or a hotel and stay there over the festive period. At least he would be among other folk. He had hardly made up his mind to do that, when his phone rang.It was Bridget McLeod.“Victor,” she sang in her Scottish lilt, “James and I were talking about your visit, and your news about your sister. Would you consider coming to us for Christmas and Hogmanay? There are going to be a few guests who come every year. Better than being on your own, and you’ve been. She writhes and gasps in her bonds, inspiring me to play with her clit, pinching and stroking the hard pulp, until the inevitable shaking begins. Cries echo from the dungeons stone walls, pleas for permission to come. I don't grant it quickly, wanting both girls to work for their respective rewards. Gripping Astrid's cunt firmly, I feel it pulsate under my palm as her orgasmic howling fills the room. Good thing I’d given her leave to go there, else she’d have been in even more trouble, which I. The smocks were old, stained and smelled of sweat. They were never washed, simply worn by female after female until they disintegrated to the point they could’t be worn. It didn’t matter who wore the smock yesterday, or last week, or even last year. You wore what you were issued.Since most of the women had been used for sex that morning – generally with no opportunity to clean themselves afterwards – the heat and humidity, coupled with the lack underclothes, resulted in a strong odor of.
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