Chloe licked her lips and took a steadying breath. “It was salty,” she said at last, softly, “like some sort of soup fresh out of a bowl of smelly pink flesh. Yet it was not thin but thick—goopy, with the exertions of more than a dozen strong men. It was all sweaty and lubed up, so cummy…” She fell silent.
“You liked it?” urged the Captain.
Chloe could only bite her lip for a long moment. “Delicious,” she said at last, helplessly. “How I ate it! Trembling in my need, I gulped at the salty slop, slobbering and gasping, licking my fingers…” Her eyes were glassy at the recollection. “Le Marquis did not stop me then, so with my other hand I reached down into my own poor wet p***y and frigged myself silly. It felt so good!” She beamed. “And when I did, those workingmen each got hard again and
