I reached behind myself with my left hand, slipped two fingers effortlessly into my ass, and began fingering myself. Slowly at first, then quicker. An... quicker. And quicker. The squelching sound of my fingers mixing with Steve’s cum was clearly audible in the kitchen.I was still bent over the table, so I got myself to my feet, grabbed my cock with my other hand, and started wanking profusely. I must have looked a sight, just stood perfectly upright in an upper-class kitchen, fingering my. Every morning the old man would bring me some food, well it was just rice soup and some stale bread and told me to let the dogs do what they wanted with me and he would come back later. He always left a bottle of the milky stuff and said to use it between my legs.I knew he was watching me as I could see him moving about through the wooden panels. We were in a barn on a farm I think and I had to let them all lick me because he would come in and sit in a chair watching.There was a big bale of. More

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