She followed my words, saying it a couple of times to get the words right. ‘What’s your name?’ I asked. At this point I didn’t care what happe...ed, I only knew that I would definitely be making repeat visits. ‘Camilla.’ —- The massage continued at a comfortable pace. Camilla was definitely a skilled masseuse, and we talked more as time progress. She was from Poland, as I had surmised earlier, and had moved to the UK to learn the language, and to find a more interesting life. Her English had more. My body began to vibrate as I clawed my way towards the release of my orgasm. My movements became rapid, jerky and uncontrolled. My hypersensitive flesh detonated. The orgasm hurt, ripping and tearing at over-used muscles and fractured nerves. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Rob muttered incoherently as he had another dry orgasm, having long drained his supplies of spunk. I leant back, desperately trying to cleanse myself with deep gasping breaths. “Come here, you little witch,” he whispered gruffly. More

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