I nervously moved my hand to touch his thigh like he had done to mine. It seemed like an eternity just to gather the courage. When my finger tips felt...his leg, my cock jumped and seemed to get even harder, straining to the point of pain against the material of my pants. With his finger tips rubbing the head of my dick he could feel it and sense it too. “Would you like to touch me?” he asked softly. I could only nod a yes. He undid his belt and pants and slid them down. His semi erect cock. I thought she’d make me get naked and I’d just do it. Then I thought she’d push her pussy into my face and make me at least smell it. You know, a sex game. She didn’t. Instead, she left me kneeling there, feeling like an idiot, on my knees and elbows, while she went upstairs and retrieved a collar and flogger from the bedroom. I was left in that position for only a few minutes, but those minutes began to feel like hours. My elbows, unused to supporting me, were already tiring and I’d had to. The nervous, dark haired, little girl standing in the centre of the line and staring at her feet had been his choice from the moment he’d opened her file in the quiet of his office earlier that afternoon. Her name was Hannah. It was her first appearance on the meat run, and she was clearly terrified at the prospect. Walther found himself feeding on her fear like a baby sucking on its mother’s tit. Only Christian names were used in the brothel system these days. Family names reminded the. As we sat, I saw that a soft pale breast was pushing itself out from the cleavage of her cleavage. I gulped my orange juice hoping to leave tactfully before I started leering down her nightgown. Then I realized that the orange juice was heavily seasoned with vodka. We both smiled when my gulp turned into shock and sweat ran down my face. She remarked that my shirt was soaked with sweat and offered to quickly run it through the dryer. Reluctantly I removed it in the hallway and modestly put.
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