Striding across the hallway, our heroine made her way in a mythical march to the kitchen, gathering the equipment required for a healthy breakfast and...a reboot to her system, the coffee tapping at its metallic prison and screaming out, being released into a ceramic cell. Sitting down, Rixie Godwight, our goddess as stated by the mug that now held her coffee lifted the ceramic creation to her lips, pushing the tip of it slightly against the battlefield of her rosy lips, the refreshing liquid. "Turn around," I said. She put hands on her slender hips and glared at me. Her face painted perfectly with make-up. "Turn around and put your hands up," I said. "Fuck you, Micky," she said, lipstick coated lips pouting. Anger and desire flashed across her face and sexual hunger was momentarily visible as a contraction of her pupils. "Turn around, face the wall," I said. "Raise your arms." She did as I said. "Spread your legs," I said. She did. Opening those long legs. Every cell of my. More

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