by Patricio
(10/04/00)

He doesn't wash you. For the first time, he doesn't wash you. You stand naked at his study door, your hands behind your head, your legs apart. And for the first time, when he emerges, he doesn't take you to the bathroom. He looks you over, and sees nothing written on you. He goes behind you: nothing. His hands at your buttocks turn you, so that you are facing him, your back to his study. He thrusts the two middle fingers of his right hand into your vagina. "My writer cunt," he says with a smile, his thumbnail idly flicking up at your clitoris. He watches your face for your reaction. Then he bends to lick the whorl of your right ear. ""Thank you, Blue," he says unexpectedly...

Our permanent collection of exotica