“You need Mistress’s permission to touch your clit?” I ask, relentlessly impaling her squelching folds with my thick girlcock. Using her to shap... my orgasm.She nods, agreeing. But her aroma of needy arousal is now tinged with the erotic miasma of wanton duplicity.“A good girl should spank her clit for me.”No hesitation, her fingers slap her clit in time with the doe’s deep thrusts. Her mouth forms a perfect O. Her panties start spilling from her mouth. Her body tenses.“Cum for me,” I order.Eyes. Contessa Helena de San Finzione entered the bar through the kitchen door. She’d bought the hotel earlier that morning, she was allowed everywhere. A Versace gown and her tiara made her stand out a bit in the t-shirt & jeans crowd that had gathered. Julie’s invitation had said Casual Dress, and except for the tiara; which she’d brought as a whim, the $2000 outfit WAS casual for her.Helen hadn’t even expected the invitation. It took a while to get to her. So long that she was thinking of sending. More

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