Unlike his wife he didn’t softly caress me, instead roughly running his hand up my slit, eliciting from me a sudden, shrill moan. “Absolutely dren...hed. What a dirty little slut we have here,” he said removing his hand from my panties. “If your pussy makes a mess of our carpets you’ll be the one cleaning it!” Suddenly I felt the force of John’s fingers pushing against my lips. I started to gag as he pushed his fingers deep into my throat and forced me to clean my off my saturated juices. “Have. ‘I’ve got chocolate sauce and some breath mints.’ ‘What?’ ‘You wanted chocolate.’ Even his tone said don’t-be-stupid. I harumphed because I couldn’t think of anything better to say and stared at my cast. He stood there, next to me, and watched me stare at my cast. The weight of his eyes on the top of my head was driving me insane. Would he just not go away? I discovered that the harder you try not to fidget, the more squirmy your body gets on you. I wanted to scream. ‘Wright.’ He dropped to his. More

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