Those intimacies were, she was certain, burned indelibly in their memories. What the good lady didn’t realise, whether through naivety, or more probably because events had occurred too quickly and were somewhat beyond her control, and by God this woman was a control freak, was that the delicacies in question were in glorious colour on Peters mobile, or, more accurately, her ladyship’s mobile, which was loaned to Peters whilst an employee. Peters, for his part, was content to bide his time. Let Adams have his way, he reasoned. There would be plenty left for him afterwards. By God he would be popular down his local hostelry. He could sell tickets, he imagined. £50 to fuck the local upper class rich bitch. Peters grinned inwardly. Blackmail was a recreational activity he would enjoy to the full. Slowly, Lady Kavanagh did as instructed, the relativity pendulum swinging back to red faced tearful, highly embarrassed mode. The two servant leered as the thong moved from its orifice hiding. So manly, so sexy and beautiful. I felt his hand gently guide my face towards it. I could smell his manly scent, I could feel the heat coming from his skin. When he pushed my young face into his cock and I felt it against my cheek and on my lips. When I felt the soft but firm texture of his penis’s flesh, the firmness of his balls. It was like a switch was flipped. I hungrily licked and lapped at his cock, feeling it harden as I did so. I licked at his hanging ball sack feeling the firmness of his most delicate parts. I put each one in my mouth and lightly sucked them. I didn’t know what exactly to do, but I knew what I wanted. I rubbed my face into his privates and he pulled away alittle. I thing I may have been too enthusiastic. He said, “here” and held his hard cock at the base, then put his hand gently back on the back of my head, guiding it towards him once more. I stared at his erection, wanting to memorize every inch, every vein and curve. I licked at his tip, I tasted a.
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