“Fried chicken and potato salad. And I have some Indian samosas and a cold soup they called gazpacho, I think.”“Cold soup?” I asked. “I neve... imagined that. I’ll try it.”“I expect you’ll try everything, Tony,” Lissa laughed. “You can be our official taster.”“There’s no poison in here, is there, Kitten? The taster doesn’t particularly want this to be the last supper.”“If there is, we’ll sue the deli when you’re gone,” she giggled. “For mental distress and hardship.”“And loss of services,” Melody. Go, horny little bastards, make what you can of the slut! Go!” And he cracked the whip once more.She felt several large hands grab at her at once, a few of them were callused. One hand scraped her side lightly, but just hard enough to make her shudder. The hands tugging and groping her breasts alternated, a set of fingers pinched her nipple and she yelped. Her sensitive nipples were sticking out far now, her large areoles bared. Her breasts were large and lush, and it seemed as though each man. More

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