She gasped, waiting for him to express some disappointment at their small size, but instead he lowered his head to them, nuzzling each before taking a...nipple into his mouth. A moan escaped her when his tongue swirled around her nipple, then he bit down cruelly, and she cried out, the strange mixture of pleasure and pain so intense she felt dizzy. He moved to her other nipple and repeated the process, and by then Heather was gasping for breath, her mind begging him not to stop, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t sure what animal it was, but she fancied she saw a pig. That was more than a little odd. She hastened her pace, and hurried into her apartment complex. She really didn’t want to interact with Louis Phillipe just then, but she also felt rebellious and empowered just then, as if she’d just spoken to Oprah. He was the fucking concierge. He didn’t own the apartment complex. In fact she owned her apartment. So fuck Louis Phillipe! So she changed her plans of using the service entrance and. More

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