I didn’t need to be asked again and I wanked and shot my load as her husband came inside her. As he withdrew I could see his cum inside her and also...falling out. She got up and rushed to the shower to freshen up. Afterwards we sat talking for a few minutes but she was awkward now (I think embarrassed) and she quickly made her excuses for them to leave. A month later I went back hoping they were there again. They arrived about an hour after I had and this time after the polite chat they invited. You get off the counter and you and Jasmine leave the restroom and go back to your table. You order another margarita, something to calm your nerves as you are still coming down from your orgasms. Jasmine still stands by the wall, eyes downcast, hands clasped in front of her. Her tongue had felt so good you still tingle from her ministrations. You tell the waiter to get her a drink, whatever she wants. The margarita calms you down and you start to replay the events so far in your head. This. .. fuck... you had me going nuts! Mister Charles sent me off for towels, so I stopped and rubbed myself off in the linen closet -- but it wasn't enough..." She dipped a sponge and went at the floorboards again. "When I got back, you had Ed in one end and Boris in the other. It was bad -- I couldn't handle it, so I went over and parked over that chair arm..." Musing, she got up and, taking the sponge, began to wipe the lounger arm. "It didn't work -- or maybe it did -- I don't know. I got really. Then laughing a sorrowful laugh, she continued with her story. "I guess his brutality worked because the Hounds were a rather efficient bunch. We would stay in the field until we found our prey. Failure was not something we considered, the Kennel Master made sure of this. Yes, he would beat us, but only to improve on our training. He had other means to torment us when he was in a mood or feeling rowdy. He would mate us among each other, male/female, male/male, female/female, it didn't matter to.
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