With a deliberate calm she brushed a slowly fanning butterfly from her shoulder. There was such a weight of fury in her simple gesture that my stomach...clenched and I realized this fact: No one ever left Felurian. Ever. She kept men until their bodies and minds broke beneath the strain of loving her. She kept them until she tired of them, and when she sent them away it was the leaving that drove men mad. I was powerless. I was a novelty. I was a toy, favorite because it was newest. It might be a. I started off slowly revealing my fantasy to her by telling her that one night when I have the guys over for poker we're going to get her drunk and take advantage of her. Then I'd whisper a fantasy about how a guy held us at gunpoint and tied me up and then had his way with her. She enjoyed it. I could tell because she would seem to orgasm quicker and more intensely than usual. Finally, again after getting her rather tipsy, I pulled out all the stops. I told her my real fantasy was to see her. I raised my arms, as if in surrender, and he pulled my sweatshirt off. Jon, the silver tongued pedagogue, was tongue tied with surprise and lust: all he could manage was a husky "Oh wow!" before he slid the straps down over my slender shoulders began devouring my breasts. But there, his tongue discovered a mute eloquence, as he licked and kissed me in a frenzy, as I cradled his head like a suckling baby's. I slipped my hand between his legs and began massaging his cock through his jeans. In a. You'd better drink that before you spill it I said, and she knocked that one back in go, to the evident approval of the lads. I think mum needs a pee, I said, that's what comes of having so much to drink, you naughty girl. See if you can find your way to the Ladies. One of the lads said: I'll buy you another drink when you get back, it's my round. She sort of staggered off and looked around. A slightly older man who I noticed had been watching her all the time, leered at her and asked if.
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