“Holy crap; you’ve been busy! I thought you said you had work to do?”
She stepped closer so her p***y was almost touching my nose. She smelled of soap…and s*x.
“Screw the work,” she whispered. “What’s a girl got to do around here to get a drink?”
It was an hour later. Claire was tied down with wrist and ankle straps and spread-eagled on the bed.
“So…” I sighed “…you were asking about n****e clamps?”
“Please, Daddy!” she whispered, looking terrified.
I stroked my hand down her body – the basque was quite lovely and the burgundy color seemed to tone in perfectly with her new hair color. I was amazed that Claire had travelled on the London Underground wearing only this basque, her stockings, and the raincoat on top. She admitted that the journey had already made her wet – and practicall
