I saw the evidence. Chloe growing her futa-dick burned in my mind.The fabric passed my knees. I drew them up my thighs.“Oh, my god,” I said, unabl... to contain my nerves.“Sasha, dinner's ready,” my mother called. “I thought you said you were joining us.”“In a minute!” I shouted back and pulled my panties up my thighs and over my rump.The flannel fabric cupped my ass. The waistband snapped around my hips after I pulled my fingers free. Would this—I exploded in orgasmic delight.“Holy fucking. I half expected tails and a bow tie with a white linen napkin draped over one wrist, but even in his conservative modern dress, Stevens’ bearing and manner still screamed English butler. “Welcome back, Mr Campbell,” said Stevens, his neutral accent not exactly English but not exactly Australian either. “Thank you, Stevens,” Riley replied in neutral tones of his own. “This is Alex Barrow, a colleague.” Colleague? I was a junior associate and Riley had his name on the door, but I suppose he could. More

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