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She nearly yelped and pulled away as I tore her nightshirt off along with her panties. The tentacle around her throat kept her down, and the knowledge she could only get punishment out of resisting got her to keep suckling through her sobs. A few more tentacles moved about her body, teasing her nipples and rubbing her back and behind as my fingers teased her virgin kitty. Of course, she tensed up and tried to fight me, but the girl-cum on her face, the slime from the tentacles, my own pheromones, and now the milk she drank all conspired to make her cum the moment I touched the little nub on her kitty.Her moment of peaceful satisfaction after the rush of pleasure was cut short when I pulled apart her bottom and sent not one, but two tentacles into the tiny opening. The scream was absolutely perfect. It sends chills up my spine just thinking about it. It might take a few more examples, but it would eventually dawn on the girls that I would bring them incredible pleasure when they. Vic was her lovely vibrator. Em was very fond of Vic. She ate as planned, just a light single course meal and one glass of wine. It amused her that this act of self-deprivation seemed at first to cause more chatter among the other diners than the fact that she was dining alone. Em assumed that the patrons of this particular hotel, which was nicely upmarket, were unfamiliar with the benefits of one’s own conversation. Or perhaps, she thought, they had concluded (this was Paris after all) that she was someone’s mistress and had been stood up. She smiled sweetly at any of her companion diners she caught in the act of surveillance. She was rewarded with several embarrassed eye shifts and one or two nice smiles that, in other circumstances at another time, she might have assumed to have been invitations. She loved Paris. Its inhabitants believe themselves to be superior beings, but in fact, they are all gauche. She smiled at her own little joke. The little hotel she was staying at was on.
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