He had an appealingly craggy face, and his thick dark hair was swept back from his forehead. His eyes were a captivating shade of blue. His body, all ...ix feet plus of it, was trim. He wore a pair of khaki trousers and a blue shirt, with a burgundy tie. He was carrying a briefcase."Hi," he said to Bree, who was standing there gaping at him. "I'm Professor Cary Gordon. You'd be Miss Spencer, the photographer, right?"Bree recovered quickly. "Yes, I'm Bree Spencer. We'll do this whenever you're. We hear a low moan from the chair, and briefly return to reality – we had forgotten your husband was even there. We look over at him; he has his cock out of his pants and is rubbing himself, fixated on the scene playing out in front of him. We give him matching evil grins, and then return to each other. Your hands are on my breasts now, pinching my nipples, and I slide back up your body and feed one of them into your mouth. You learn well, and start sucking strongly on my tit, biting and using. More

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