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Her legs on each side of my head and her pussy staring me right in the face. Of course her pussy was perfect. So neat and orderly unlike mine - which my ex boyfriend sometimes casually referred to as roast beef curtains. I could see she was slightly wet but was unsure if I could go through with oral sex. This was much different than kissing or touching. I had little choice though. Court pressed her pussy onto my mouth and my tongue instinctively began to explore. Her pussy was so soft. It smelled good. It tasted good. She was perfect. I could feel her mouth between my legs as well although she was mostly just fingering me and moaning, a sure sign she was enjoying my oral attention. Her pelvis was rocking back and forth. Smothering me from above. It made me a bit claustrophobic but I didn’t want to ruin this experience. I attempted to ignore my anxiety and eat my way out. It must have worked as Courtney convulsed on top of me. She screamed as my tongue brought her to. “No, not Mr. Wilde! He... ,” she tried not to cry again, but she couldn’t finish her statement.“He what? Should I get Mrs. Dubsky or Mrs. Mancuso?” I pressed the matter.“He would ... cut me off food. He does it now and then, to save resources and also to punish concubines. He doesn’t do it too often, for fear of it being obvious, but he does it once in awhile. He ... also,” the girl shuddered as she revealed a shocking secret.“He ... what? Is it what you were crying about?” I insisted.“He calls them, ‘accidents,’ but once in awhile, a concubine dies prematurely, and he is always the one who got threatened last time by Mr. Wilde. This time ... it was Daddy. And I just saw Daddy slip and fall. They recycle the bodies afterward, and it’s always just one more than the ones scheduled for it. Always men, too. Never women,” the girl wept.A light dawned on me, and I gave her a quick kiss before heading toward the recycler. I was too late, though. Three bodies, not two, were dumped into the.
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