Act cool, girl. Cool. She’s coming my way with a bundle of laundry. Probably destined for the Lachlan Room, I dare say. How am I meant not to blush?... But Miss Honeywell is a treasure. Nobody here can put me at ease like she can. She doesn’t bat an eyelid as she stops in front of me. I almost feel clothed again. “Miss Carling!” she beams. “How are we today? Wasn’t last night wonderful? You looked magnificent!” “Er, thanks, I’m fine, thanks,” I say, suddenly feeling a whole lot more comfortable.. As clothes were shed, her dark skin became more visible. Her lovely aereolae were revealed, their size disproportionate to the rest of the breasts. The nipples jutted straight up, as though climbing toward the ceiling of the room.My hands and mouth clashed, as each wanted to engulf her lovely breasts. I found the combination of hands and mouth to be better partners than adversaries, so engaged them simultaneously. The more I enjoyed her breasts, the more she seemed to respond. As her breathing. More

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