“Oh fuck,” she thought, “not another interrogation fetish.” The man in front of her was fat, blubbery fat, and bullet head bald with pig pink ...kin. Lots of it. He reminded her of some fat Germanic baron from a movie; only the monocle missing. His accent was from that part of the world too, an arrogant east European slant. But his words were in English. He was naked apart from rubber boots under a big rubber apron an obvious crotch hole cut in the front of it. Around her was a cell converted to. I stood behind Anabelle and gently raised her arms above her head. And lightly ran my fingers from the tip of her fingers slowly down to her underarms. She bit her lips as goose pimples rose all over her freshly waxed skin.It was such a turn-on to see that sexy smooth skin come alive with thousands of tiny inflamed grains. Her sexy underarms were the target of my ministrations. I gave them light but firm flicks of my wet tongue, which found her squirming with delight.“Ahhh. What are you doing?”. More

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