My saliva just adds to the mess all over her face from your cum. Her head still lowered since her "Master" has not given her permission to look up, I ...rab the back of her hair and pull her head up to look at me. Her eyes meet mine, hers glassy and full of sexual gratification and now uncertainty, mine full of jealousy and disgust. "Tell me what is all over your face whore, tell me NOW," I demand of her. She replies with a timid "My Master's cum." "Whose Master's cum?" I ask, my voice sounding. Her dress was midnight blue and silk -- unassuming and expensive. Elizabeth, he conjectured, had made something of her life. Her face reflected, together with that quick smile and flash of the eyes he remembered, a confident sense of herself. Though Mark was happy enough to see her, he was somewhat at a loss for words -- idle cocktail chatter being inappropriate for a reunion after so many years, but little in the way of shared memories to fill the void. Others joined the group and they. More

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