You could see our nipples and the wedge of our pussy lips up close, but from a distance, it probably looked like we were in skimpy bikinis. They weren...��t even thongs like Candy’s mom wore. They were darker colors with white or yellow polka dots to make us appear like any other beachgoers on a Florida beach.The worst part of the exercise was the cold air of the paint and the weird feeling of it drying directly on my asshole, but mom said that I’d appreciate that when my cheeks were flapping at. For pudding I would serve a forest fruit pavlova with lots of whipped cream. Whilst You were eating I would make sure I was at hand to keep Your glasses topped up and for any task that You may set me.After each course I would clear away and then wash up after You had finished the meal. I would then make myself available for You and Your friends’ play.At Your desire I imagine I would be strapped over Your coffee table at first for the delectation of You and the other Mistresses, taking turns to. Stan got busy, and soon Anne emerged, wearing a tan wraparound skirt and white t-shirt. She got busy with toast while Stan went to put his shirt on.They chatted about inconsequential things for a while over their breakfast, then Stan stopped for a moment and looked meaningfully at Anne."We need to decide what we're doing, you know." This weekend, or in general, Stan?" she asked, "I thought I'd made it clear what I want last night. I want to be your girlfriend, and see where it takes us..."She. “For,” Thrust. “Me.” And I did. Hard. “Alex…” his name slipped from my lips one last time. With a few more shallow thrusts, he followed me into the realm of ecstasy. We both lay there, a heaving sweaty mess. He pulled out gently and our mixed essence gushed from my pussy onto my thighs. “Damn, babe.” He purred, sliding his index finger through my folds and inside me. I trembled, still highly sensitive. “Is a week too long to go without me?” Even if I could form words, I still wouldn’t.