"So, who owns you?"I looked to my left, my eyes widening slightly. A pretty brunette was pulling herself onto the stool beside me. "What did you say?"...he looked me directly in the eyes, and said, "I asked who owns you?" In a lower voice, she added, "Slut."I gasped slightly at the last word, but met her gaze, and asked, "What makes you think that someone owns me? Or that I'm a slut?"She laughed a little in a rich, low voice. "I'd say it's pretty obvious. Shall I list the reasons?" Please do."She. ”I lightly moved her hand off my cock.“Okay. But that’ll have to wait. I’m too tired to multi-task.”I gave her a peck on the lips and rolled to the foot of the bed.“I need some space to tell this one.”“Oh, dramatic!”“Believe it.” I rent the first floor of an old house, built a hundred years ago, maybe more. My bedroom’s a big one, plenty of empty space, with dark wooden floorboards. I got off the bed and switched on a floor lamp, one of those with a soft yellow bulb, a real mood-maker. I slid. She started to moan from the sensation. She reached her nipple. The instant the ice cube touched it, her nipple hardened, she rubbed that ice cube on her nipple for a little bit, then switched to the other nipple. Both tits were now exposed, and the warm breeze on the wetted skin made her shiver. She started to rub her thighs together, catching her clit between flesh and the fabric of her bikini bottoms. Jennifer had an enlarged clit naturally, and this motion engorged it, making it even. "My guest was evidently in deep dudgeon! Her eyes wandered all over theroom without fixing. She was endeavoring to make some decision,obviously, but seemed quite unable to do so.I patiently awaited her answer. At length, as she did not speak, Iquietly went to a drawer, took out a pair of shears, and returned toher. At the sight of the blades, she shivered and, with effort, said ina voice broken with emotion:"Don't. Whatever revenge you think you need, you must have had enough ofit by now." Not.