Waiting…waiting…tick…tock… I have no access to the time, I have no clue what hour it is. I just know he’ll be back, and when he is…well, I...just can’t wait. I miss him, I’m not just waiting because I’m bored from no stimulation, I need him, I’m waiting because my life revolves around him. I remember the first time we spoke, online, we went very s-l-o-w-l-y, he trained me, he had recognized my submissive personality and innocence the moment we spoke. Everyone does, but he said there was something. Its vaguely rectangular surface was covered in pustules, not unlike the camera that he had seen watching him in the tunnel. The mucous-green, gelatinous blobs were affixed to the tower seemingly at random, some of them wobbling and shifting as if they were alive. As he watched, Tangerine began to interact with them, her hands hanging at her sides as she released a series of complex pheromones. Many of them were too subtle and too finely layered for Walker to parse, at least not yet, and some of. She trailed her hand up his cock after her mouth had left it. She began to feverishly stroke him and he wasn't going to stop her. So she thought. Jack grabbed her hand and stopped the motion. He got up and mover around so she had her back against the sofa. He lifted her up and sat her on the edge. He looked up at her and glanced at her panties under her shirt little skirt. She was wearing panties that matched the bra earlier discarded. Jack could see that she was very well trimmed. He could. Becky wore a wistful expression, "I had IT! I seemed to go all to pieces! You know what Mr. Quentin did to me, don't you, Mrs. Moran? He put his man-thing in me-- fuuuncceckkked me! And..." her voice turned dreamy, thoughtful... "I liked it! It hurt a little bit at first, especially when he seemed to tear me!"That's when she lost her cherry, Mavis mused, driving off. Oh, what a lovely baby--and BODY!--Mavis pouted, deftly adjusting the mirror so she could glance up and see Becky's reflection as.
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