"My breasts, my nipples, my pussy," she said."What else?"Her breath was getting shorter. "My hands on your cock. My tongue on your cock." On whose coc...?"She understood. "My Master's cock."She felt him remove his hand from her cunt, and he began to lightly run it over her spine, along the back of her thighs, along the side of her breasts, and along the side of her cheek to her lips."And what will you withhold from your Master this weekend?" Nothing," she said."Nothing," he repeated.He helped her. Maybe I should go back, she thought. Maybe I should just throw myself off the cliffs instead. That would be better. But she knocked, and when the door opened she went in without waiting to be invited or greeted. She had to duck a bit to fit through the doorframe. She was a great, tall woman, with strong arms and broad shoulders and a hard face, but she was often called beautiful. (A duke wrote a sonnet about her hair two seasons ago. She called the verses "quaint.")Hester was wiping. More

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