She was lost in rapture, unaware of my presence, and he made sure her back was to me. Now and then he looked at me as he did things to her, and her mo...ns of pleasure let me know that the things he did were amazing. I knew my nipples were hard with longing for his mouth, his hands, his body. It probably would have been more torture if it wouldn’t have been for Claire, who was one of those annoyingly vocal women who feel the need to moan and squeal about every little thing. I felt sure she was. She was stretched cat-like along the bed, semi-naked in sheer nylons, a corset, and slip. My angel had grown horns and a tail.“Those years of pro-bowl gave you a good physique.” With a riding crop, she deftly opened my shorts and lifted my limp penis. “It will do very nicely.” She slowly sat up, languidly stretching her long balletic legs before stepping delicately into her stilettos. “Have you heard of Otto Dix, Mr. Tarakan?” She stood for a moment, her hands glided lasciviously across. More

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