. . to feel her hair against his lips . . . to smell her . . . to taste her. And they fucked. Now, she was spreading her legs for him. He kissed he... mound. Afraid to move down . . . afraid to commit to what she wanted."Eat it," April said.Her scent was strong, overpowering. He kissed her pink, slippery pussy. He stuck out his tongue and licked her hole. April grabbed his head and held it against her. Jerry slurped their oozing--salty, sweet, and acrid, juices. April felt naughty making. I did not ask who my master might be. I was a slave. If the masters wanted me to know, they would tell me. My place was only to listen, obey, and serve.It was nighttime when we landed several hours later, but the air was still warm when we exited the plane. While I had been secretly smuggled aboard the plane outside Paris - slavery being illegal in France - I was surprised to be simply carried out of the plane by one of the guards, my naked, bound body draped over his shoulder. He carried me. More

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