He sat with his back to the headboard, naked, the sheets turned down. Vivian sat beside him, tugging on his throbbing cock. She'd come to his room to ...ive him another bedtime treat."Your cock's pretty stiff now, Donald," she observed. "Ready for your good-night sucking?"Donald grinned and folded his hands behind his head. "Suck away!"Vivian curled up on her side by his hips, pushing her hand to the root of his straining prick shaft, holding it in position. Lovingly, she began licking up and. He sent her to be broken. Eventually she was given back to him, as a pet. I was seven." She took a sip of her tea before continuing."I was raised in what you would call a whorehouse, but to call it such is like calling a milk stool a throne. There was nothing in this house that money could not buy. My father owned it; my mother helped him, and I helped her, tending the girls. Bathing them, caring for their hurts, tending wounds, whatever they required, from a massage to a manicure to changing. ‘What flavor is it?’ Alia asked. This time her stern lips were cracking into a smile. I had no answer for her. I fumbled with the half answer I could think of. ‘Man flavored, my Lady,’ I said. I was backed up with laughter and arousal. It was an enjoyable game. Alia shook her head. ‘Tsk, tsk, that will never do.’ Alia’s smile turned sly. She glanced up briefly, then dumped the contents of her wineglass along my phallus. This time her laughter broke as I sucked in my breath against the. She showed it to me, around the house. That’s what made her such a bitch. She knew she had the goodies, and she teased me continually. She would wear tight shorts that rode up between her ass cheeks, and then bend over in front of me for some reason or other. Then, she would wear just a T-shirt with no bra, letting her erect nipples rub against the material, causing an instant erection in my shorts. There was no way I could keep my eyes off her. She knew what she was doing, and I wondered.