Your parents expect me to play the harpsichord when they have guests. It is what a daughter of the house has to do. I assure you that it is preferable...to doing the laundry, but it’s hard work nonetheless. Au revoir!”With that she was gone and Thomas breathed easier. Mirabel was quite a handful to be sure.Christmas morning dawned late and found Thomas still lazing in his bed. He was catching up on all the sleep he had missed in over three years, and he had also indulged in memories of Catrina. My mind was spinning. Oh how I wished my finger could too on my raging burning pussy. I tried closing my legs tight; I tried opening them wide but there was no relief. We arrived to Master’s home. It was small with two wicker rocking chairs on the front patio. Mistress opened the ornate wooden door to let us in. she took my bag and the three of us walked into their kitchen. Mistress opened the bag and removed the nylon rope and coffee. Master sat me down on a metal chair and. It almost sounded like crying or whimpering. I didn’t even bother knocking and started to open the door. What I saw caught me by surprise. Becky was under the covers, and by the sight of her panties and tank top on the floor beside her bed, she was most likely naked. He knees were bent, tenting up the covers and her body was arched slightly. Her head was stretched back and her eyes closed. I just walked in on my oldest daughter masturbating. I froze for what seemed like forever, but in reality. My tongue slides back and forth across the front of you covering every new spot of skin as its revealed, lingering slightly longer to circle your nipples and take them between my lips. My hands firmly cup your breasts now as you lean up to pull the top off. Still in total darkness you feel me take your hands and move them to your breasts, you start massaging them eagerly. You feel my tongue lick hard right up the front of your underwear, pressing into you through the fabric. My hands are at.