Misty had gotten the dog hard. His penis stood stick-like stiff. I clambered out of the van, followed by Misty and the dog, Misty helped me get into t...e right position, on my knees, in the cool fragrant damp grass, my head and shoulders pressing my breasts into the lawn. I arched my back and widened the distance between my knees. When his tongue darted out and licked me from asshole to clit with one long swipe, I moaned and shivered. I quivered. I can't resist having a hot, wet, rough tongue. And why Beatrice? Why was it his wife who'd contracted whatever strange ailment that had killed her? What could Paul have done to save her?Paul very rarely wandered away from the villa. He didn't see the need of it. There had been little incentive to go anywhere at all ever since Beatrice had become so much more of a stay-at-home woman.However, now that Beatrice was gone, Paul was too restless to remain in the villa. Maybe there was someone who knew what had happened to his wife. Perhaps there. More

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