When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Chapter Eight Gillian remembered not to wear panties just in case she was caught by a member of the club, unaware. That wasn’t a particular problem for her, but doing this because a secret s****l society demanded her naked crotch was something that would work on her brain all day. She wondered as she lifted her skirt to sit on bare skin if there was a member watching, and if it would impress them with the sincerity of her purpose. Membership became more dear to her each hour. Every time her mind wandered to the evening on the bar stool her body quickened. Who was the man behind her? And who was the man in front? That one seemed familiar. After some days, she suddenly remembered the balding-bearded guy at her cunt. A lawyer too. And a fierce litigator. She won a case against him, and with