“Hope so.” She went quiet for a minute or two, then surprised him again. “We all want to say sorry for… Well, you know, the way we were back a... Yasmine’s. To you, I mean.” “Used to it. Don’t worry about it.” “Still…” “You got over it. Good enough for me. Damn sure made this nightmare easier, helping out the way you have.” “Had to do something. We’d all be dead or slaves except for you two coming after us.” “Had our own reasons, though.” “But you’re still dragging us along, aren’t you?” she. He makes a small noise, but it’s nothing compared to what he lets out when I run my tongue over the boy’s length. I keep it on top of his underwear, stopping at the spot where his tip is exposed, because I don’t think he deserves tongue-to-flesh-contact yet. I put a hand between his legs, running my fingertips over the bulge of his sac, and by the way he’s tipping his head bag and trying not to moan, I guess the friction must feel nice. His thighs start to quiver a little bit, and I can tell. More

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