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I now put my arms about this female’s bare, freckled shoulders. I was fucking a woman once more, rutting myself into this redhead splayed beneath me! Warm skin was slapping against warm skin. Breasts were moving with my chest. My long, hard penis was being surrounded, even squeezed by tight, feminine flesh as I pistoned in and out. I felt sensations of approaching orgasm that I had almost forgotten. But I wanted to enjoy this redhead, just as she had invited . . . at least a little. So I tried remembering how to pace myself as Sheila had encouraged with books. We would look at those lying nude together, sometimes just on a rug . . . trying things out, usually laughing as we did. I saw her again . . . lying nude on that plush, sheepskin rug, laughing in my arms . . . Sheila . . . she had been so good to me . . . “Lance, what is it?” I heard. “N-Nothing,” I stammered, snapping myself back, sensing that both my thrusting and even my cock had been flagging. At least it was now. “It’s growing huge!”Bella shuttered and writhed. She had never felt such a thing, her clit so sensitive that even a gentle breeze felt as if her clit was being stroked by his fingers.Raisa was next, her body subject to the same torture of the clamps, her screams louder, her body jerking so hard they had to hold her tight. She screamed when they clamped her pussy, Raisa not believing that anyone would do such a cruel thing to a female. But she grew ashamed when they clamped her clit, her body shuddering when they blew on her aroused pleasure button, Raisa fighting the urge not to cum again, ashamed at how her body reacted to the lightest touch. But that wasn’t the worst part. She was bent over a wooden bench, her legs spread wide, one of them pushing down on her naked back, pinning her to the wooden bench. The other spread her legs wide before his hands moved up over her naked cheeks, Raisa shivering in fear, remembering the plug shoved unceremoniously up her backside.The servant.
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