) Then she ushers me to a karaoke step which she matches by moving laterally. She leads me to a pivot, then a swoon. Continuing, she brings me upright...to a pirouette. Twirling and swirling, we tango. She drags me like a ragdoll, lifts me up and throws me towards the ceiling. La Petite Mort supports my hips and guides my legs to grip her shoulders so that my quim lies exposed to her ravishing tongue. She is lapping, lapping at my pussy door. (In my bed, my Lady Flower is starting to gush.)She. Her employers, a gentleman in his early fifties, handsome and blond with a developing belly on his medium sized frame, of British heritage, and his second wife, a green eyed, mocha skinned beauty in her mid thirties with black and white parentage, treated her respectfully despite her condition.The couple and their children, a second generation from the man who had two sons in their twenties, one conceiving a granddaughter, provided her with warmth and intelligence, letting her participate in. Did you have a nice day at school?"Dad turned to me and said, "Lexi, go wait in the kitchen! I want to have a talk with your mother."I nodded and walked past Mum, who looked confused and looked at Dad questioningly. I wanted to get upstairs and start repairs on Kittybot, but I had been expecting something like this. Mum and Dad liked to present a unified front when I had done something wrong. Though not a regular occurrence, it had happened in the past.I sat at the kitchen table, laying my head. They do nothing but pile work on top of you in senior year. He barged through his bedroom door and slammed it shut behind him and it was then that he found it. Laying there on his bed was a stopwatch, placed right in the centre."Mom?!" Adam called."What?!" his mother replied from downstairs."What's this stopwatch doing on my bed?" I have no idea what you're talking about."He approached his bed and picked up the stopwatch. He held it in his hand and looked at the face. The stopwatch was a.