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. what the hell... what are you doing to me?”“Demonstrating that I’m a can-do guy who tells no lie.”“What?” she panted, squinting at his incredulousness, perplexed by another cheesy, seemingly well-rehearsed salesmanship line that seemed to be working. Yet, she was still unsure about what was happening. It felt like a force, a sensational presence, was moving her forward, or rather, up and down.Her legs unknowingly had involuntarily spread apart and prepared to act like pistons, causing her. I thought it was better than nothing. I would return the favor occasionally when no one was looking as I would slip my had down the back of her yoga pants and teasingly stroke her pussy.We ran the table the rest of the night and just as the last drop of beer was drained by yours truly she turned to me and said.Sarah- Come on lets go to bed.With a wink. I slapped her ass.To be continued???? Chapter 2We walked to her room. Thank god Jake couldn't come tonight or i might have just killed him just. “I’m confused. What have you heard exactly?”She released the string of her top and it snapped back into place, then she laid the same hand on my thigh. “I’ve heard that you’re looking for Stirpi to teach you how to end the Lockdown,” she said as she squeezed the inside of my thigh. “I’ve heard that you were involved in the death of Lord Fanelli,” she said as her hand moved up and bumped into the crown of my erection. “I’ve heard that you’re free of the Lockdown, yet you refuse to share that. Even when her nipples burned and her mind reeled with the sensations flooding it. Even with the infernal machine shuff, shuff, shuffing, the tubes quaking with the pressure, her breasts being milked like udders, she could have said no. And I would have immediately released her. She knew her safeword and she trusted that if she had to use it, I would instantly respond and stop whatever we were doing and free her. Betsy knelt there on the table, panting as the milking machine tortured her.
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