“Strip.”
Voice as cold as ice rings an instruction. It's Vladimir, the Russian god. His eyes send thrills down my spine, and dirty thoughts of what his coarse fingers and rumored monster c**k would do to my tight p***y. The nasty thoughts make my thighs involuntarily clench, holding back from dripping before my first master.
“You heard him.” The lady groans. She opens the door and my sharp eyes get a clue of the madness I signed up for; s*x cross, bondage furniture, a dangling whip…
My heart skips and my thighs clap tighter, putting pressure on my swollen clit. I’m going wild… And these three demons are awakening the bad effects of the viagra. Oh, god.
The most I and Ambrose have done is a 69 and he sucks at it too.
Giovanni waves off the lady, eyes pinned on me the whole time. He
