Richard’s hand rests, a slight pressure from the heel pressing the plug inward. Fingers dip lower, plucking and rubbing and stroking my hot and fluid flesh. “You’re very wet, Charlotte. I think you’re enjoying this more than you like to admit.”
The fingers slip inside me, winding idle spirals that tease and tantalize with penetrating to any great depth. “Charlotte, since I am denied the pleasure of your p***y today, I shall use your mouth. Instead.”
He stands, taking another something from his pocket, moving to sit by my face. But head lowered, through the waterfall of my hair, I can’t see what he’s holding.
“You have been very busy recently, with Michael,” says Richard. “The noises James and I have been hearing downstairs were quite distracting. All that wailing and howling. Not that i
