Miss Margie laughs as Roger gawks.
“You can only look, Roger—unless I decide otherwise.”
***
Saturday
“Don’t hurt yourself. Stay calm,” Miss Margie mocks.
Roger feels as if his organs are aflame. The twinges have come and such begin the slow engorgement of his p***s. He feels the Prince Albert ring belligerently tugging against the guiche piercing. He needs cold water—ice. Yet, he watches in amazement.
A white uniformed Miss Margie has Lilly strapped into a gynecological examination chair, her feet and calves in stirrups which she has parted to the maximum. The many folds of Lilly’s love nest are separated to reveal in full all a girl wishes to conceal. The chimes hang below to freely ring, the lower Ben Wa ball has popped from its nest and shines with wetness. As Roger is afforded a
