I just see one of them and I tremble. I have to try to be more reserved, less easy.But she couldn't. One look at Cecilia and her heart would melt, her...pussy gush with warm fuck juice. And Cecilia, because of her trouble getting free from Ron, wanted to do what Laura and Yvette had been doing for months: meet at Laura's apartment directly after work for a hot twenty minutes of frantic fucking, just to get it out of their systems."You wouldn't even have to take the bus," she said, almost. ”Katy looked at him with her eager eyes begging him to continue.“I’ll do it if you name five postmodern novelists.”“Ok, Ok, Ok...” she hastily was trying to overcome her dizziness. “Ah… Thomas Pynchon.”He kissed her lips. “That’ one.”“Oh… I know! I know! Philip Roth.”He kissed her lips again. “That’s two.”“Ah… Let me think… Milan Kundera?”“Give me two more names and I’ll make you happy.”“Let me think again… Ah… No. I guess, that’s it. I’m sorry, I’m so dumb. I failed you again.”“No, Katy, you. I had to do something to make it presentable.’ ‘You do tell such lies.’ Jennifer was no fool. ‘This apartment just screams of the care and attention you’ve given to its furnishings. Is that a picture of your parents?’ She pointed above the fireplace. ‘Yes.’ Peter was very brusque. ‘What a beautiful woman and he’s so handsome in his RAAF uniform. He’s a squadron leader, is he not?’ ‘Was!’ The anguish in Peter’s eyes was enough to warn Jennifer not to continue on that topic. ‘What an unusual. When he judged the crowd to be at a fever pitch, the veil over the object was whisked away and a barely conscious Cheryl Johnson was displayed.She was almost naked, clad only in what was left of her underwear. Her arms were pulled upward and at maximum spread by chains attached above her head to poles on either side of her. Her legs were kept spread apart by chains attached to the bottom of these same poles. Only by supporting herself on her toes could she remove the pull of her body's weight.