She blushed and turned her eyes down, just for a moment. Connie smacked Renée’s knee with her own and the blonde girl sat up straighter and looked ...e in the eye.“It’s not greed,” I turned back to Hannah, “You’re mine. I want to look out for you. I want you to know you’re cared for.”“OK,” She nodded, “But, but we care for you. We have to look out for you!”“Yeah,” I nodded, “I’ve never been in better hands.”She blushed. I took another heavy breath. Andrea was swinging her legs and stirring a half. ", she had never felt so alive.The bartender couldn't quite believe his luck, he hadn't fucked a woman in years and he'd never experienced the pleasure of an 18 year-old. He still wasn't sure what 'human toilet' meant, his mind started imagining the sickest of possibilities but he convinced himself it couldn't be true. Would this fat goth girl really be his toilet? "I like your vest sweetie, What does human Toilet mean then?" he gave her a perverse look.Grace had waited years to be looked at. Unable to speak, I watched as she slipped it on and buttoned up the front before smoothing down the front of her skirt.Then she turned to me. "Sometimes, Henry," she said as I stood there in all my spaced out nakedness, "It's not a matter of who we are but of what we are." Are you alright?" I asked her.She nodded and smiled briefly at me. The kind of smile that said everything was going to be fine. That she understood the name of the game. "You finish your shower, sweetie," she said, "I really. We stopped to admire a beautiful wooden yacht. It had far more quality than most of the plastic Gin Palaces around. Two of the crew were enjoying a beer on the gangplank and saw us admiring the boat; we started chatting to them about the boat and how it was built. They constantly replied with innuendos like "Yes, she's in very good shape," "We love the fine lines," "Moves really well," and that sort of thing. My wife certainly understood their meaning and was blushing when we left, and told me.