His hands brushed up her side tenderly. Patrick bent down to kiss Francis’s swollen, dark nipples. By this time next year, they would be flowing wit... milk. She moaned at the feel of his tongue against her left areolas. Oh how he loved igniting her desire until she begged for his member. ‘S’il vous plait, mon amour, j’ai besoin de vous,’ she sighed breathlessly. Patrick grinned. Ever the Quebecois, she would slide into French during moments of arousal. Francis reached out to grasp her husband’s. He smiled and noticed her condition. Mr. Dunn moved close and whispered low to her, “I know why you are here. I know what you want. Go to Jasmine’s room, take off your dress, sit on the bed, and wait for me there. Understood?” as his hand rubbed slightly against her hardening nipple under her dress. Christine froze for a moment and took a short quick breath before nodding and whispering lowly, "Yes Sir, Mr. Dunn,” and she turned for the stairs. Christine slipped into the room and sat on her. More

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