“Of course,” he breathed, imagining it happily.
“And, why—well, you did beg to be my c*m-slave, didn’t you?”
“Of course!” exclaimed Brad, still perversely thrilled at the thought of plunging his fingers knuckle-deep in that beautiful, overflowing, spermy vulva—hearing her, feeling her, smelling her. Ah, what a delirious joy that would be! “B-but I thought—”
She shrugged matter-of-factly. “You did want to be the clean-up boy, right? To be able to get down there and wallow in what I had done, to see what a cummy, gooey slut I had made myself, so juicy and overflowing, to hear it and smell it, and to clean me all up inside…?”
“Y-yes…” he admitted, still picturing that most intimate chore performed bare-handed and dripping. God, to revel in her like that! Oh, to bubble and splash, and mayb
