I adore those tangled and murky paths; uncertain and inviting; where a lady may find her honour forcefully plucked from between her creamy legs, where...her bosom may heave helplessly and the delicate porcelain skin of her back be rubbed raw on sandpaper tough bark. Down these dark and twisting ways a girl could lose her moral compass, drown in seas of discarded leaves whilst rough and merciless hands rip the torn and tattered clothing from her flesh and the waterfall of her arousal soaks her. Desserts included regular favorites such as Creme Brulee, Mousse Au Chocolat and Mille-Feuille and the entire contents of your classic French Patisserie. Then there was a whole wine bar, Champagne, Bordeaux, Burgundy – all provinces of France were represented in the wines available. Laura also some unmarked bottles that reminded her of that delicious mind fuck wine she’d had right after her conversion into a pretty young woman. Fruit, oak and earth in equal proportions. The wine chose her. The guys put their cocks away and I fixed my dress and followed them inside. As soon as they closed the door my dress was practically ripped off me. Now I was just standing in my fishnets and my heels. They pushed me down to my knees and took their cocks out and just started fucking my mouth for all it was worth. They were rough with me and called me a whore as they took turns feeding their big hard black cocks into my mouth. I would alternate with a cock in each hand as I sucked off one of the. It really did reek, even after the perfume. You’re a squirter , she thought to herself, lying in bed. Remembering something MasterServant had mentioned in one of his stories, she rearranged the thought. ‘This girl’ is a squirter. Elaine had thought she’d ‘squirted’ last weekend. There wasn’t much evidence. Her bedclothes had a wet patch but she was always juicy, so that wasn’t out of the ordinary. She had wondered how much ‘cleaning up’ Kendra had done. But she hadn’t asked her. That.