Every time she walked by I can smell how good she smelled. Her scent filled the air.I had to complement her again. Telling her “you’re driving me ...razy”. She goes behind the counter, reached into her handbag. Showing me this oil and perfume spray that she mixes. She called me over to the counter. She rubbed oil on my hand and spray right over it. “What do you think ?” I replied “not the same.” I move closer to her taking a sniff of her neck and hair. “smells better on you”. This allowed me. .. this feels wonderful..." Betsy moaned, just barely above a whisper. Every stroke of the device's engine brought her a step closer to a precipice of her orgasm. Every tug on her nipples, every space between sucks, every small amount of her tender breast flesh that was pulled into the tube, was sheer torturous pleasure. But Betsy didn't protest. Even when her nipples burned and her mind reeled with the sensations flooding it. Even with the infernal machine shuff, shuff, shuffing, the tubes. More

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