Right as I said this, my fiancé came down the stairs and asked me what I thought of her outfit for her business trip. I almost choked on my drink whe... I looked over. She stood there in skin-tight black dress pants highlighting her sexy ass with a low, low-cut blouse and a tight vest. And no bra anywhere to be found. The cleavage on her almost 36D’s was amazing. Immediately I felt myself start to get rock-hard. “Uh, I like it, but I don’t know how appropriate it is for work,” I stammered out as. R’s tablecloth, slut?” I was in a dizzy haze and I moaned as pulsations began to guild in the ass Master owns. Master slapped my face to bring me back to reality. I smiled into his eyes. “Yes, Master. I’m creaming on Mr. R’s tablecloth.” “Who are you?” “I’m your slave.” “And what do you need?” “I need to be fucked, Master.” In a flash, I felt the fingers slide out of my ass and I moaned at the absence of sensation. The straps removed and Mr. R and Carlos helped me climb onto the table. Master. More

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