Again, Philippa felt she should say something, but she lay paralyzed, as the serving girl leaned down to lightly place her flattened hands directly on the thickened disks of Lady Philippa Gresham-Cantwell’s maidenly t**s. The dark-haired girl closed her eyes; her brow tightened into knitted lines, and she had to stifle a gasp by biting down on her curled lip as the girl quite deliberately touched her in so intimate a manner. The knowing touch deepened the creamy waves of pleasure. Joined fingers pressed into the soft flesh of those wobbly titties, moving those pliant mounds in slow, lazy circles. The captive girl clenched her eyes even tighter, and from her hard pressed lips came the whimper of a hurt kitten.
Deft hands attacked her n*****s, toying with them, scissoring them between oily
