It was a soft woman's touch—a promise, perhaps, of more. She stroked the top of his hand, a gentle searching with her fingertips. She lifted his han... and turned it over and held it. With the fingers of her other hand she probed the flesh of his palm and the calluses where his fingers joined it.The soft caress of skin-on-skin bade him finally to gaze upon her bare shoulders—and lower to the tops of her breasts not quite concealed beneath the neckline of her cocktail dress. She must have seen him. “I almost got tears in my old eyes just now, when you talked about me coming home to a wife and kids. I never thought I’d ever live to see the day.”“Jon David, what on earth are y’all doing with all of them black hired hands over there? It’s too cold to be plantin’ cotton,” Mrs. Perryman said when Jon David went over to set up an account for their labor.“We’ve bought some tractors and mules and we’re plowing up a lot of that old rolling hill land back there. We’re thinking about planting cotton. They are by and large professionals who have lifestyles that they must keep secret from society in general, some even from their families. We meet each year in a secluded location somewhere around the globe and let it 'all hang out' for four weeks. This year it is in a lodge in the mountains, actually not too far from here. I am sure that you fill find it not only very interesting, but quite enjoyable." Leslie, I'm not sure I'm ready to meet people yet," protested Jamie."Yes you are Jamie, you. Mary kept tonguing him, and he kept spurting. Kayla was fascinated with how hard he was coming, and how much of it there was.When he began to dribble, Mary gathered up the last fitful ooze on her tongue with a deeply satisfied moan. She patted his leg and said, “Well done, my little lamb. Go wash up. You’ve earned a special reward.”“T-thank you...” He had to pause to suck in a deep breath. “Mistress Mary.”Though his arms were trembling, he pushed himself toward the edge of the bed, trying.