She notices, even as terror freezes her limbs, that his surface is not smooth, but littered with patterned bumps that somehow couldn’t be seen, but ...re keenly felt. Not that it’s rough, on the contrary. The tentacle holding her is slick with slime, softened by a life in the water. Even then, Agnes can’t escape. She wriggles and thrashes, pushes the limb away and grunts with the effort. The creature simply adds a second tentacle to the assault, holding her legs in place.“Agnes!” The voice of the. He was trying to look down my skimpy top without me noticing. I smiled seductively. I was wearing what my new client has suggested; a white shirt a size too small, a black silky skirt with a slit up the back and black stockings that just reached the skirt hem. He reminded me of the first older man I had been with. My snatch got wet as I remembered. He was a friend of my fathers; a lecturer at my university. He was middle aged but still handsome and in good shape. He had asked me to stay behind. More

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