‘You’re not being nice.’‘Never said I would be,’ he retorted as he began to trace my pussy once more, sending my head back to the pillow. I ...ushed my body up against his hand expecting him to plunge his fingers inside of me once more, but he ignored the movement. I tried moving against towards his hand but he held it away.‘Say it, Beth.’ I knew what he wanted. I could feel the tips of his fingers at my entrance and could hear the teasing sound in his voice. I knew what he was trying to do. What. The townhouse must be at least 250 years old and it takes up half a city block. It's five stories tall and covered in baroque ornamentation. You walk to the ground floor entrance and ring the bell.A pretty young servant opens the door. "May I help you?" she asks in a slight Italian accent. She's wearing a gray maid's uniform with tight bodice and skirt. She has a heart-shaped face, brown hair, blue eyes, and full red lips. Her blouse is well-filled out, and her legs are long and trim.You smile. ” She smiled, as she heard the low groan emanating from my throat, as her hand rubbed the length of my hardness through my shorts.I quickly came to my senses, sort of. I mouthed the words, “Young lady. You shouldn’t be doing this! It’s not right!” Unfortunately, I didn’t back up the words by removing her hand.“Sometimes good is better than right, Gramps. And, doesn’t this feel good?” she said as she straddled my left leg, rubbing her dampened panties on my bare thigh.Her scent wafted up to my. I often find myself thinking about tying you up just like in those poses I ask you to make. I imagine pinning you down against the wall as one of my hand pulls your hair and another wraps around your throat as I growl softly into your hear telling you that you are such a dirty little slut and that Daddy is going to use every hole of the body you possess but I own.I imagine you kneeling in front of me, my hands wrapped around your golden locks, your lips covered in a coat of crimson red held.