I lay back to resume my attention on my sensitive little pussy and figured I wouldn't force him but if he wanted to taste me again then I wouldn't sto... him. It was a matter of seconds before his snout was back between my thighs again. His hot tongue immediately in my hole lapping up all the juices I had produced whilst playing and spying. The more he licked with that rough tongue, the more juices I produced and the deeper his tongue went into my virgin hole. He was literally tongue fucking me. He scrambled to his feet, muttered an apology to Mrs Jones and scuttled away. He didn’t apologise to me. Later that evening I was helping to clear the ballroom after the family and guests had retired to bed. George came into the room. Mrs Hughes glared at him but he walked straight to me as if nothing had happened. ‘Abigail,’ he said. ‘I…’ I cut him short. ‘Why should I talk to you?’ ‘I’m sorry about earlier, but this is important. I have a message from Sir Henry, to you.’ ‘Sir Henry? Surely he. More

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