It was obviously special, in that it had thick windows and there were heavy cables leading in and out. But it looked more like an operating room, than...it did a portal to Victorian England.I was dressed in a what the Victorians would call “undressed” style. That is, I was wearing a scratchy cotton shirt and a heavy linen coat, with a silk neck scarf, and wool pants held up by suspenders. These were natural fiber without any modern material in them. My feet were adorned by a substantial pair of. I unzipped my pants and pulled my seven inch cock out. I caught her hand and placed it on my cock. Her hand explored and then she broke the kiss and looked at me as she stroked me.I said softly, "The way you sucked my tongue, I'm dying for you to suck my cock."She let out a noise like a small whine and closed her eyes and moved until her head was in my lap and she was swallowing my cock. My instincts had been right. I had my share of blow jobs through high school and college but nothing like. At night when no one was around I secretly checked his messages and gallery out of curiosity. He was not at all as innocent as I thought. His cell was filled with sex obsessed forwarded messages, pornographic pictures and video clips. A week later, the entire society was supposed to attend a grand wedding ceremony, which was to be held out of town. That day I was not feeling well and hence was advised rest by the doctor. I was the only one left out alone in the entire society.It was raining. The two hands move to the front, dive under the half made knot that keeps Chris’s bathrobe together, and with one push those hands open the knot. “Morning cutie.” Chris smiles and watched how those hands open his bathrobe, then the hands slide over his naked belly till they reach his pubic hair. The hands meet each other at the base of his cock. One hand grabs his cock, while the other one cups his balls.Chris turns around and leans against the counter-top, while he watches how she sinks to her.