As he watched DJ continue to play with her tits he started slowly wanking, but just to be sure of things he asked her again “Are you sure this is ok...”. DJ told me she didn’t even answer the question, but reached down with one hand and pulled the hem of her skirt right up to expose her soaking wet pussy. She told me she was now acting like a porn actress…massaging her tits with one hand, staring at the guy wanking a few feet away, then rubbing her pussy and clit with her other hand…all of the. That foul woman was apparently "grooming" the staff at another of our homes so she could do the same thing there. Do you know that she actually kept all those poor men heavily sedated so they couldn't protest?"Thank you, Sir. I look forward to meeting you. I need to consult with you too, as to what we can do with these men in the future. Our top psychiatrist tells me that despite their despicable treatment there, he believes that if they can be returned to your farm, their recovery will be much. They saw the want and need in each other's eyes and the spark of something primal deep inside. She came again. It was a smaller one than the first, but he could see the moment that it washed over her before she closed her eyes and moaned. He kept his pace through her orgasm. He savored each stroke while also holding himself back. He wanted to truly take her, but he didn't want to overwhelm her. He wanted her, but he wanted her to know he loved her. Her body was ratcheting upwards and she. We went to the yacht club for dinner. There were banners over the bar declaring Mardi Gras night. You were wearing a loose white T shirt with gaping openings at your breasts and a sarong tied around your waist. As usual you had no bra and no underpants. We had a delicious Gumbo dinner and a little too much wine. The band played some New Orleans Jazz music. When the dance music started I took you in my arms onto the dance floor. I was murmuring sweet nothings in your ears and through the sarong.