Chapter Twelve
Disheveled as always after a long evening of rough doggie style s*x, Saturday morning I arrive for breakfast... needing coffee and expecting my eggs benedict.
I am pleased to see my loyal maid Andrea has things ready, strutting about the kitchen naked and in heels, her motion rather gingerly.
I spy the remote on the counter, probably left there by Octavio when he raided the refrigerator for a late night snack. Before seating myself I grab it.
“You’re walking a little funny, Andrea,” commenting as I press to disengage the silencing function. Your anal balls feeling a little large this morning? I hope you’re humbly stuffed.”
Seeing that I have permitted speech, Andrea knows to address my question.
“Yes, Miss Linda. I woke early and have tended to my... ah... toilet,” the
