I pulled off the stinky cummy panties, pulled on my sweatpants, and carried the messy panties back too the laundry room.I carefully laid them on the ...helf, with the wettest nastiest area facing out. If the owner wanted them to be used in such a way there would be absolutely no doubt they were enjoyed. Just for giggles I swung by the laundry room an hour later, and sure enough, they were gone.The fact that there was no uproar, no panty sniffing police dogs trying to track down the source of the. He said, "Sit up on the bed with your arse high on the pillow so I can see my slut's pussy and arse."Every time he called me a slut or a whore it made me wetter and of course I did as I was told again. I have to admit I felt very sexy and was dying for him to fuck me again. He stood staring for a while.He said, "Spread your legs wider, let me see the inside of your cunt, you whore."The dirty talk certainly turned me and before I could help it I was coming again.He said, "Who told you, you had. They were a nice looking couple.She and Tonya went to a bachelorete party with a group of girlfriends. She had told me that one of the girls was going to hire a couple of male strippers to come by the party. I felt that she had let that slip-out, just to stimulate my imagination, which of course it did. All night I imagined the most decadent scenarios, (which were sure not to actually happen, but if was fun letting my fantasies play). When she came in late that night she immediately climbed. “Only a little, but the fucking Count and that pesky Gower guy did enough damage, talking about immortality this and fountain of youth that,” she said, looking furious, as though she had personally been affected by those guys. “It became dangerous after two decades. People started asking questions about the gentleman who didn’t age. Monsieur ran with the Count for a bit, and they became fast friends, but as the Count’s circle and influence grew, so did the number of people who encountered.