A Rose Between The Thornes
What your aunt would say to see us both bollock naked and fucking to oblivion, I dare not think.”
There was a sigh, and a groan, and she could swear, the sound of balls on flesh. Sophia’s juices gathered at the apex of her thighs and damped her quim, and her skin prickled. Voyeur she was not, but the pictures those words conjured up were climax-inducing.
“Perchance she would wish she was receiving the same atten- tions from others, or is she, and we know not?” Another equally recognizable voice, followed by the lighter tones of her niece, somewhat breathless, but nevertheless, recognizable.
“That is not polite, gentlemen, for without Sophia to play chaperone, we would not be able to enjoy ourselves three deep, as we so often and freely do."
Poor Sophia, when will it be her turn?
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