“I need you to stop at the store on your way home from work
tomorrow,” she said. Sex Bondage. …? My name is William.”
His voice was very deep. “Good evening, Peter. I had stopped moving, but she had
continued the motion, rising on her toes and then slowly settling
down. I do not expect
either of you to ever contact us again. You know, like in visitors. The
preparation of food, etc., is only a secondary function). Footsteps. You’re like a child on Christmas Eve.”
She was right. You’ve outdone yourself. You know, like in visitors. What do we need?” My cock was rigid and rubbing
firmly in the crack of her ass. I know how visually stimulated you are. Not
to participate, per se, but to make Linda more “available,” more
“easily accessible,” shall we say. Opening the front door, I stepped in and looked around. Then quiet. I am here at your wife’s bequest. Are you comfortable, Peter?”
“I’m okay,” I mumbled. Where to begin? Linda’s car was in the driveway. I settled on the couch and began to sip the 50 year old
liqueur.
