Chapter Eighteen
Torrid
“Go get Mr. Feeldoe,” I command.
Christy is stunned, emotionally recovering from the silly n****e trick, entertaining so saucily a man.
“Get Mr. Feeldoe now, and come to the bedroom,” my tone of voice not to be ignored. “Bring your cuffs.”
Jim questions not and follows me to the den where I retrieve Christy’s suspension harness.
“She needs a good fucking... I guess we all do,” realizing that Jim is unlikely to know of the wondrously designed dildo.
The bedroom is next and an eager Jim strips off his clothing. I join him in deshabille, warm him up with a hug and note he remains partially firm. I am inclined to have Christy watch while I offer Jim one of my slow controlling hand jobs. But I need penetration, quite concupiscent with empowerment, making Christy
