She wasn't wearing a strap-on. It was her. She had a dick. He was being fucked by a shemale. "Oh, God," he groaned, half in horror, half in...he w...sn't sure."Yeah," the shemale moaned in agreement. She was quivering as she fucked him, moving her slender cock in and out of Patrick's asshole slowly, sinking in as deeply as she could on every stroke."Hey, you started without me," a voice complained. Patrick looked to his right, to the doorway, where a short woman stood. Very short, he saw. . It would be like following the Stations of the Cross; except it would be a celebration of creation, not sacrifice. Breakfast was to be scrambled eggs with fresh Anchovies and fresh baked bread. Lunch; a lobster salad and a bottle of Schloss Johannisberg. Dinner; orange and mustard marinated chicken. Gemma rose at 5.00am and carried her cup of Assam to the Greenhouse. Watering was checked, and the sprinkler given ten minutes play over the vegetable garden. Other items for the day were placed. More

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