My First Time Tasting Beatrice: Nervous Thrill of Surrender
In our living room, that Saturday morning buzzed with tension. Still in my maid outfit, the frilly skirt barely hiding my caged cock and plugged ass, I stood there like an idiot. The tray of coffee cups shook in my hands from those damn 12cm heels. Hélène and Beatrice lounged on the Chesterfield, legs tangled,…