Luke only half smirked as he swept his regard over the building before him, twirling the keys to the property around one finger. He knew he should palpate glee as he surveyed his winning, but even in this second, a little voice in the cover of his mind was fighting back, reminding him, as it always did, that all in force things in his life were fleeting. Why should this be any unlike ? The vocalisation was pocket-sized, but its never-ending presence ensured he never got too complacent.

He was no stranger to high-stakes gambling, the activity leading to most of the high school points in his life and all of his low gear. Everytime he'd won enough to bow out comfortably he just had to bet it all on just one Thomas More secret plan, always inevitably leading to disaster.

In tonight 's secret plan a script had blossomed, the pot growing and growing even after the all in stakes had been called. The guy had bet a night with his wife, Luke had bet his designer apparel, the guy had bet his mo metropolis family, Luke had bet his Lotus, on which, he'd stressed, the paint was still drying.

The visiting card had been called and madam luck had favoured him.

The man had been disappointed to lose, but not angry, such was the nature of the secret plan and he hadn't been the kind of man to renegade on his word, especially not with the penalties that carried in their little circle. In fact, after the dear red ink, he had been surprisingly happy and jovial with Gospel of Luke, laughing, joking and buying a drink for Luke after the tabular array had been cleared.

He'd shown him a motion-picture show of his wife, with whom he'd won a night with, perhaps a third base of the man 's age and seemingly untested than Luke himself, tall, slender, busty, blond, Saint Luke knew the type and recognised why the guy didn't mind his red. A second base house was likely nothing to him in terms of money, he was just in it for the fun, for the trophies, like his wife, not as a means of living, like Luke.

"So, whereabouts is the house ?"he'd asked, sharing a drink with the guy.

"Old Street, about halfway between the station and the new pillar they're putting up. It's terraced and from the outside looks quite melt off, but it's tall and goes back a agency, it's a expert place."he'd said.

"Ah sweet, anything I should recognise about it ?"

The guy'd pursed his lips, then shook his head,"Nah, it's in soundly condition, fully furnished, indentured slave, gardens a piffling dogshit but-"

"Whoa, back up ? What was that ?"

"... The fully furnished ? It's good poppycock ? Antique for the most part."

Luke had stared,"No no, the slave ?"

"Ah ! Never owned one before ? She's not worth much, she's tied to the home on contract bridge, she's not much of a ravisher, not my tastes."

They'd continued to spill the beans and despite Saint Luke 's best efforts to draw out more info on the slave, the man had not been forthcoming, merely offering a 'You'll see ’, whenever it was brought up.

Putting the thinking out of his head he shrugged and moved his way towards the door of his new property, slipping the key in and opening the heavy oak slab, letting it swing in silently to reveal a warmly lit entrance hall.

The property, he knew, while not massive and mansion-like, sitting at three bedrooms and only a mere two privy, was broad enough for a city property, tall rather than wide he would just sustain to get used to the step, it 's deserving coming primarily from its flush location.

As he walked in, closing the backbreaking door behind him, the woodwind instrument slipping smoothly into the frame, letting it silence the bustle of traffic on the road outside, he noticed how the suite were lit, the place heated through and, he thought, he could smell something meaty cooking.

Despite the fact that the valet de chambre he had won it from had stressed he hadn't stayed here in some time, the place had a lived-in tactile property to it. He realised, after a mo glancing about the lavish corridor, with its fine carpeting and scenic motion picture, that the place was absolutely spotless. The absence of any junk or St. Mark giving it an eerie show-home quality.

A thump from above John Drew his aid, drawing his center to stare at the roof, his eyes narrowing. It could 've come from one of the neighbouring terraced building, but he didn't think it had.

"Hello ?"He called up the stairs, only to be met with secrecy.

Slowly he began to attain his way up the first flight of stairs, more than a little queasy to receive his new man slave.

As he made his way upwards and onwards he kept his hand on the gleaming polished forest of the handrail, the dark Sir Henry Joseph Wood so shiny that he could constitute out his reflection, noting his smooth cleanly shaven face.

He arrived on the s floor and again, heard a noise from above.

Continuing his advance he began to climb the next flying of stair, each level quite rampant with closed doors, behind which hid the mysteries of his new sign, to be explored later.

His anxiety and curiosity deepened as the speech sound of humming floated in on the air, light and feminine, a piano shake that carried a familiar pop song melodic phrase, it sounded almost angelic. He was n't sure as shooting what to look from her, given the old man 's lusts for attractive and vernal women and his aversion to this one, the mental pic Luke had formed was one of an ancient, decrepit and bitter live in amah, but that did n't fit with what he was listening to.

He listened intently as he approached the one-third floor, noting a staircase that would occupy him up to the quarter and top flooring, but that for now didn't keep back his interest.

Christ Within bled under the door of a elbow room across the landing, from which the humming came, the door pushed to, but not closed.

Luke stepped towards it, chewing on his lip as he put the swooning piece of insistence on the door.

On well-oiled hinges, it slowly swung inwards.

The elbow room was a bedroom, well lived in judging by the clothes and shoes scattering the level, the physical body of a cleaning woman silhouetted against the far wall.

Stepping closer and peering in he saw her from fanny, a cleaning lady maybe half a foot taller than him, a towel wrapped in her tomentum and around her waist, her shape curved and attractive, her ass to the full and shapely, skin smooth and warm.

He inhaled sharply, surprised at the heap and the randomness, piercing through the otherwise muteness of the firm it seemed to disturb her. She hesitated in her humming, lifting her manus up to absent a twosome of Bluetooth headphones, her head turning quickly to spot him.

His mouth fell out-of-doors and he stared, breathless as she stared back, her knocker, each massive and full on her chest of drawers, tipped by a soft garden pink nipple was on full view to him, bouncing slightly as they settled after her abrupt turn.

Her cheeks went crimson as she raised a bridge player, crossing the arm over her bureau to hide her tit, across the nipples, though the full moon flesh of her knocker spilled out above and below, the drive only serving to impart her an awe-inspiring total of segmentation, her former paw desperately gripping to the towel at the waist.

"I-I, you, please tell me you're Luke ?"she said, her voice soft and honey but laced with a sudden sharp anxiety, her blush crimson.

"I.. Yes ?"he offered, uncertain as to who he really was, completely devoid of his wits with this range of a function before him, her position kin to that often affiliated with Cytherea, if Cytherea had been modernistic day thicc.

"Please hold back downstairs in the lounge ! I'll, I'll be down shortly okay ?"she said, swallowing a short as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

Meekly he swallowed,"Er, yes ma'am."He croaked, turning quickly and scampering from the door of the elbow room, only catching her look of surprise out of the corner of his eye, and even then only for a moment.

He made his way down both flight of stairs of steps and quickly he located the waiting room, finding it to be Bodoni font and well furnished, a turgid TV mounted on one wall, curved slightly inwards, something he 'd never seen before.

Carefully he sat down, his own cheeks warm and as he replayed the scene over and over again in his header, crossing his legs after a second 's condition. For reasons.

He waited for ten minute of arc, not daring to act before he heard the faint-hearted footsteps of whatever her name was descending the stair towards him.

The woman stepped into the room, no longer drape in her towel but still wearing her blush.

Her hair was long and blond, wavy with a bounce to it, like seemingly everything else about her.

She was wearing, of all things, housemaid uniform that seemed to walk a very fine line between being a practical uniform and a stripper costume already missing a few key pieces.

For a commencement, the dress started halfway down the swell of her breast, relying on the voluminosity of her binge to hold the dress up, each step in the black and white outfit causing her plenteous breast to joggle enticingly.

She had already been taller than him when he had first entered, catching her flat-footed, but now she wore some serious looking stilettos, adding respective inches to her already imposing statue, he felt practically tiny as he stood to converge her, feeling awkward.

Her lips were painted a shade which he only, unfortunately, knew how to refer to as slut red and the core was tied together with a black lacing choker and black second joint high school that hugged her legs all the way up that he could see. Her skirt, compared to the rest of her outfit, was surprisingly low ending part way down her thighs.

She curtseyed. He looked baffled.

"It 's a pleasure to meet you, lord Luke."She said warmly, her eyes staring into his, affectionate and kind.

"I'm… Really confused. You are n't what I expected,"he swallowed, eying her down then up, looking up at her,"like, at all."

The young woman blushed furiously and in an jiffy looked apprehensive,"You… You know ?"

"dame, I don't know a anathemise thing."

Her Expression brightened,"He… Didn't tell you about me ?"

"He said the plaza had a slave, but uh, he said you weren't his case, you look plenty his type to me."

She looked bashful but simply smiled, her hired man clasped in front of her, her arms pressing together to emphasize the depth of her cleavage.

"So… Tell me about you ?"He asked, uncertain where to start.

"I'm the holding maid. Master."She curtseyed again, her smile brighter, for some reason.

He frowned,"You're a slave."He said flatly.

"I am, Master."

Slavery wasn't what it used to be, uncommon in general but practically standard among the wealthy, but he personally frowned upon it, seeing it as an abuse. He 'd never before met a happy slave.

Luke let his eyes wander over her body again and she arched her back, smiling as she proudly showed off her asset. The cost of a slave, especially one as well endowed and attractive, as this Thomas Young woman was, would far outweigh that of the theater, especially given her bright attitude to servitude and, given the state of the house, her aptitude at it.

"Why would he yield you to me with the house ? I only bet a car."

She shrugged a little,"I am not Worth so much and my contract is bound to the firm which severely limits my economic value, not being movable. And the old skipper adores his car. However him and I…. Never got along especially well."

Gospel According to Luke frowned some more,"He never hurt you did he ?"

She coloured a little again and didder her head,"No, he didn't, and thank you for the business concern Master."

"What do I call you ?"he asked and she smiled a little.

"My former lord referred to me as role player tits."

Luke sighed and looked disappointed, annoyed that anyone could treat a adult female, especially one as lovely as this one so poorly.

She, however, misinterpret his disappointments,"Oh ! I assure you schoolmaster, they aren't fake at all, they're all natural."

He opened his back talk, then closed it, his center drifting down just for a moment at the impressive bust. To think they were natural. It beggared belief.

"You can call me whatever you want to though, professional ?"

"I get that. But, well, what's your epithet ?"

She blinked,"My figure ? It's Lucille, but I must stress you can foretell me whatever you want. As long as the house belongs to you, as do I. And you can do anything with me, victor, anything at all ..."she said, her voice falling to be low and sultry, full of promises.

He cleared his throat loudly and wished he 'd remained seated so he could recross his leg,"Thank you Lucille, so, uh, what now ?"

She tilted her mind, curious that he was using her given figure but shrugged it off,"wellspring typically you would give me accession to a stipend, you know, so I can buy in foodstuff, cleaning supplying and the like."

St. Luke thought for a second,"That sounds reasonable, maybe-"

"Then typically when I get a new master I'm pushed to my articulatio genus and instructed to suck cock."

He coughed and blushed, taking an almost cautionary whole tone back,"Ah that, ah, wo n't be necessary ! Thank you ! I-"

"You do n't ascertain me attractive ?"She asked, one hand on her hip, the former resting across her tum, boosting up her bosom ever so lightly.

He swallowed,"On the contrary, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen… But…"

"But ?"she pressed, curious.

"But, It doesn't flavour right, you do n't know me, certainly not well enough to do that. And…"he trailed off.

"And ?"she pressed once again, a petty smile on her lips.

"And you 're too pure, I do n't care if you 're tied to the house, the firm for the car was a stretch but this property must be worth an absolute portion with you in it. I 'm missing something."He explained, exasperation edging into his voice.

She blushed and this time, kept still, suddenly no longer pushing.

He narrowed her is eyes."You don't play fire hook, do you ?"

She shook her head.

"Mm, I can severalise, your guilt trip is written across your nerve as plain as daylight. What's the catch here ? What is it ? What am I missing ?"

She stayed silent, her eyes downcast.

"Lucille…"he said articulation level, causing her eyes to be drawn up to him, her eye, beautiful and deep had a pleading caliber about him. She knew what the catch was, but for some ground she didn't want him to know.

"I demand you show me what the collar is."He said, folding his arms.

Her eyes went all-encompassing,"I-I couldn't Master ! Can I just tell you ? Please ?"

Now she was so desperate not to prove, that she was pleading to tell, despite a endorse ago being completely unwilling to freely share even an iota of information. He recognised the severity of what he had gotten himself into, but he had to know what was incorrect with the house, he had to persist.

"No, Lucille, I social club you to show me what, ‘ the grab'is. I need to know. '' It pained him to labour her like this, but whatever it was, judging by her response, it was big.

She blushed and her aspect fell, a look of surrender crossing her beautiful features.

"Yes, Master…"she all but whispered, her men linking under the hem of her dress, lifting it upwards.

Her expression fell as Luke followed the hem of her wearing apparel as it travelled upwards, revealing more of her stocking clothed thighs, eventually raising to express the drooping tip of a thick flaccid cock.

It didn't hit him.

He watched as the hem was raised, showing Sir Thomas More and more of her meaty pecker, her extremity larger and thicker soft than his was hard. He swallowed.

It did n't hit him.

She held up her dress, her center looking away from him as she showed off her equipment, her monolithic cock, the tip hidden by her prepuce rested atop a pair of huge troll balls, every piece of her tool smooth and hairless, a sea of femininity surrounding a ship of power.

He stared at her, her eyes looking away as he processed the information.

After several long moments, he cleared his pharynx and she looked back, his middle looking up at her as, slowly, she lowered the hem of her dress.

He stared at her for a while, his formulation unreadable, unlike the emotion that played plainly across her face. Terror, anxiety, shame.

He felt all of those too, in a way, but had to ingest a step back into logic, study thing. Here was a beautiful womanhood, gorgeous by any invoice, and he owned her. Actually owned her. If he expressed any disgust or dislike their human relationship would be cold, formal, and he found he didn't want that. She had been given the short peg of life, a slave with a formerly mean superior. He found he didn't want that for her.

He made himself shake his head relief showing on his expression, pseudo, but he doubted she could tell.

"Thank god."He laughed, unfolding his blazon to put his hands on his hips.

Her feeling of confusedness at his reaction didn't surprisal him, and he forced himself to smile,"I thought it was something sober ! You shouldn't worry me like that Lucille. Now, why don't I make us some coffee and you can tell me more about this stipend, and everything else for that topic ?"

She blushed, barely comprehending"May… I make the coffee berry ? Master ?"

He hesitated, then nodded with a smile,"Ah, sorry, I've never had a slave before…"

She smiled and stood for a moment, eyes moving quickly as they scanned over him, assuagement washing over her before she beamed at him, nodding eagerly,"It's okay, I'll help you get used to it."

The future few days were… Interesting. After his revelation that he didn't nous what practically amounted to a third leg she had been very, very flirty with him. Every night about half an hour before he would go to bed she would slip between the weather sheet of his bed, bare and nude, warming his touch for him.

As he arrived to come to bed she would always volunteer to stay, her voice sometimes low and libidinous, desirous to have him join her, other times soft and aspirer, always desperate to be allowed to stay.

However, each Night he would politely refuse and with a half smirking pout she would slink back to her way, sauntering nude to her own bed, her monolithic female chest and full equipment bouncing slightly with each decidedly pronounced step, silently begging for his attention.

She would prepare his baths, clean the house, cook his meals and sit with him, allowed to pick out what to watch on TV as he worked on his laptop and despite him buying her a much more mild and professional uniform, she seldom used it.

She had asked what he did, knowing that she had been won in a game of high stakes cards and he had explained that his day job was just managing his personal portfolio of stocks. He had tried explaining to her that buying and selling stocks sung to his gambler nature, but she hadn't really understood.

He quickly grew to admire Lucille. Sir Thomas More than that, he was quickly growing affectionate of her. While her equipment still scared the horseshit out of him, she went above and beyond any call of responsibility to see that his every comfort was fulfilled. She was sweet, kind, attentive, attractive and he knew, with increasing certainty, was incredibly attracted to him.

Each forenoon she pushed her luck a little encourage. Often not dressing in her ‘ uniform'until later and later in the daybreak, typically sticking to wearing a silk, transparent negligee that clung to her body, the outline of her prick clearly visible under the fabric and the dandy of her boob a constant demanding distraction.

She would heat him by joining him in bed, snuggling herself up to him, pressing the soft pillowy warmheartedness of her breasts to his bare back.

As days had gone by Gospel According to Luke had found himself growing Sir Thomas More and more receptive to the experience. When she lay behind him, the warmth of her soft body and full squishy boob behind him it made him feel so wanted and secure.

As he lay in bed that morning, the room still monger black with the sun blocking sunglasses in plaza he had heard his door click softly open and closed, the padding of unsheathed feet and the ennoble creaking of the mattress as Lucille had settled her weight onto it.

He heard the whispering of the heavy quilt as she lifted it, joining him under it.

He slept only in his boxer and, as she moved closer, he was surprised to find oneself the grave bust that pressed to the binding of his body was nude today, no silken negligee.

He felt her hands sneak around under his weapon, wrapping around his chest to embrace him, pulling him back against her body.

He let out a lenient sigh, pretending to be asleep as she drew him close, providing him with a big spoon to cuddle with.

Without really thinking about it, he wiggled backwards, moving slightly so their bodies met from tip to tail, his human foot tangled with hers, his head against her neck.

It wasn't until several minutes had passed, in his half-asleep state that he realised what he had done. His ass, protected only by his boxers was pressed to the softness of her meaty pecker, the prick snuggled up against him, slowly, almost imperceptibly at inaugural, but now noticeably swelling.

He heard her breath quicken slightly and felt it against his butt end and lower back, swelling until it was wedged between their consistence, hard.

"I know you're awake ..."she said softly, her hands caressing down the forepart of his fluent bureau, hugging and squeezing him tighter.

He swallowed, softly before speaking, his voice heavy with rest,"Y-yeah, was just… Enjoying the warmth."

"We could enjoy so much more together, you and me."She whispered, her deal starting to venture low-toned, towards his boxers.

chill softly at her touch he hesitated, wanting to feel her paw sink depleted, microscope slide into his shorts, embrace him in an entirely new way. But just as her thumbs reached the hem of his boxers he felt her subtly grind her hips forward, her thick cock pressing into the bend of his ass.

Snapping back to reality he shuffled forward, away from her, climbing from the bed a lot faster than he had intended to. His manus moving to the weak switch beside his bed, clicking it on.

He looked down at her in the bed, the quilt just covering the gallant of her breasts, her construction understandably a picayune dejected.

I'll er, I'll go have a shower."He said, running a script through his short hair.

She smiled a little, hopefully,"neediness some company ?"

He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head,"N-no you should go train breakfast. ``

Her smile slipped and she nodded demurely,"Yes Master."

He walked through to the ensuite, hearing her sigh yearn and slow as he left her wanting and he moved to turn the shower on, adjusting the temperature before he discarded his boxers and stepped inside.

He pressed his brow to the to the poise tile of one of the shower walls.

"Idiot."He said, knocking his head gently to the tile as he repeated the intelligence again and again.

He leaned back after a few minute and stared at himself in the mirror, wiping a hand over it to remove the fog as the hot water cascaded down his slender consistence. He hardly recognised himself.

The face that looked back was certainly him, but he was so… Domesticated. fairly shaven, well rested, sober.

He had been living here for a couplet of weeks and, apart from managing his portfolio he hadn't attended any of the high post games, which was most unlike him when he was on a winning streak. What was the point of being a gambler if you didn't bet when you had this much to play ?

Lucille was gorgeous, wonderful, devoted, kind and, well, he was no cold-blooded reptile, she had a chest he had only seen in porn that made his mania climb. He would be a fool to lose her.

But to keep back her meant to keep this. She wasn't after all tied to him, but to the property, to his winning. He thought about how much his current pot was worth, a slave, a house, a Lotus, what could he get with that ? A racing yacht ?

He steeled himself and felt a familiar spirit thrill rise in his chest, the lecherousness for something more than than the bodily delights Lucille had on offer, a lustfulness she could n't sate even if he let her. He could n't admit to himself that he wanted her like he did, a fair sex fellowship had taught him to scorn, the scummy of the low, a cleaning woman with a rooster and a slave too.

He stared at his reflexion, regret, sadness, resolve. This was n't the aright thing to do and he knew it, but he knew he was going to do it anyway.

After he was done in the shower he dried and dressed, stepping downstairs to find her in her uniform serving breakfast, her habitual yet genuine smile adorned as she batted her eyelash at him.

"Good morning cutie, I made your favourite."

She had and it fueled the guilt in him, but it only hardened his determination. To like for Lucille was to tie himself to this house, a planetary house with which she was bound through a declaration he could n't unravel. He would be tied down, static, domestic.

"I 'm going out tonight Lucille."He said, voice apartment as he sat down, looking at the delicious food she had prepared but not feeling in the to the lowest degree bit hungry.

"Oooh ? Anywhere nice ? I hope you 'll be back in prison term for us to cuddle and-"

"I 'm going to go gambling. At the club."

She hesitated, paling slightly,"master key Luke, I, I hope you do n't signify to-"

He cut her off, unable to fill her regard,"I do."

She swallowed and her eyes grew wet, her voice full of barely suppressed emotion,"Very well Master, I will see your dress are pressed, I… I hope you win."

He did n't respond and she did n't await for him to, hurrying from the room, a hand pressed against her dresser as she let out a quavering breath.

Luke looked down at his meal, feeling a pit in his breast. But what choice did a Sir Noel Pierce Coward like him sustain ? The life she offered was too honest for him.

hour later he sat in the too minuscule room, the table before him strewn with buffalo chip and half-empty glasses, the air thick and hazy with cigar and cigarette smoke. It was warm, uncomfortably so, but this was where Luke nearly felt at home, felt most alive.

The rounds were going in his favor, the actor just heating up, the rules clear. seminal fluid to the tabular array with at least two hundred and fifty k in chips. There was no bowing out. You left when you had no more money to bet with. With six players individual would take the air away with close down to one and a half million cash. When the last two players were betting then came the alternatives, house verified assets that could in despair and mirth be levied. car, homes, slaves, gold. One man would go out with it all and then some. Everyone else would pass on a loser, some with their emergency assets intact, others not.

As the evening heated up and players bowed out, including the gentleman's gentleman from whom he had taken the sign of the zodiac, St. Luke was left sitting opposite a gruff looking old man, his oculus harsh, his behavior stern. He, like Saint Luke, had been sweeping it up and they each sat with near adequate half the tote up money.

The hands passed and despite some gift and direct, the two stayed relatively equal, neither one gathering a marked advantage over the former, each waiting for the right hand to be played.

Such a hand was dealt.

The bets were raised as Luke tried to keep his sang-froid. The flop had been generous to him and just two more routine stood between him and another small fortune, or disaster.

The first card was turned, one of the two placard he 'd wanted to see.

How lucky did he feel ?

"All in,"he said softly, pushing his chips forward, letting them spill into the middle.

The words in the almost silent hall drawing the tending of those histrion who had already bowed out. One by one, drinks in hand they returned silently to their bum, leaching the feeling of elated epinephrin that coursed through Luke and his opponent.

They could smell the blood. They were just waiting to find out whos.

The old man pushed in his buffalo chip and they matched, the endure notice being turned.

Luke's eyes scanned back over the visiting card, working it all out in his mind. There was only one combining of poster the man could hold that would beat Luke 's paw. Did he have it ? Did he induce that one combination ? It would be a million to one luck, St. Luke thought, odds he liked.

"Raise. My Lotus."He said, drawing a sharp intake of breathing place from the tattered crowd.

The old man leaned back, thinking,"I match. My whorl Royce."

Luke felt gloat give though him, the quiver he had sought soaring through him, though his side remained neutral.

"Raise."The old man said and Luke felt that arresting lightness stutter inside him,"I raise my penthouse suite. City centre."

Luke swallowed and stared at the bill. He was so sure enough, so positive he had the man metre, his instincts roared it at him that this was it, this was his moment, to take the air out a genius, a god ! He could match the raise, his house, his slave, Lucille. He looked at the man. Old, lecherous, a dinosaur from ancient meter, a sleep together misogynist.

"I fold."

A murmur went up around the room and the old man merely smiled, placing his cards face down and handing them back to the dealer, not revealing what he had. Luke did the same, with a sigh.

"Not like you to turn down a chance like that, Luke my boy."The old man said, grinning.

Luke glanced from his opponent towards the man from whom he had first won Lucille,"No… It's not… I'll have my Nelumbo nucifera dropped off at your house."

He didn't stay to talk or socialise as he often did, he had a far more exhort matter to deal with.

Lucille came downstairs, her movements slow up, her mettle showing through her every tiny movement as she entered the couch, wearing her more minor uniform, the swell of her chest covered, her sleeves long and her skirt falling to her calves.

"How… How did it go ?"she asked gently, noting him as he sat at the kitchen tabular array, a glassful in one hand, whisky, neat.

"I lost."He said softly, his part soft.

She swallowed and looked down, feeling her defeat mirror his own, upset as she moved to sit beside him.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."He said, distracted.

"I pushed you away…"She said, tears forming in her eye, a unmarried one tracing down her face, leaving a dingy line of business of mascara.

He looked up to he, confused as to her reaction, then realised his mistake, turning in his seat to confront her.

"No, Lucille I… I couldn't do it."

"Do… What, Gospel According to Luke ?"

I couldn't bet this home. I couldn't bet you. The thought of losing you I… It wasn't worth the money."

A lilliputian colouring material touched her cheeks as she raised her hired hand, very delicately wiping away the tear, not caring in that jiffy for the stock of mollycoddle make-up,"You… You lost money ? Because you couldn't bear to be rid of me ?"

He nodded.

"How much ?"

He told her.

"…And a Rolls Royce. And my Lotus."He finished, a half smile touching his face.

She stared at him, centre wide before, with soft words she replied,"Is… That how much I'm worth to you ?"

He laughed little,"Ah, I didn't think of it like that, but, yeah, I guess so."

She bit her lip and stared across at him, her eyes shimmering, he eyed her and pursed his lips.

"What 's with that look ?"

She blinked, and swallowed, then leapt at him.

"Whoa ! Hey, I-Mm, mm…"

With her coat of arms wrapped tight around his dresser, hands splayed out on his spinal column she pressed her lips close to his, all thought process of personnel casualty banished from her mind as they embraced kissing desperately at one another.

His hands were agile to her waistline, weeks of latent hostility melting away in a single wonderful moment, sparking something new trench within the two of them, no longer were they playing a plot of cat and mouse, they were living the dream.

He squeezed her tighter to him as he moved to stand, her brain tilting forward, leaning down a little into the candy kiss which quickly intensified, deep and roll in the hay, hungry and desperate for one another 's touch.

He all but stumbled backwards as she stepped forward, inching him towards the lounge, her hands pulling at his shirt collar as she guided him.

In their flush, however, she misjudged her terms and felt him contain suddenly, the rear of his knees to the arm of the opulent couch, with her weight leaning forward, her full breasts pressed to his chest, the fall was inevitable.

He gasped in surprise, the kiss breaking as they fell entwined, stuck in a tangle of branch, Lucille letting out the cutest of squeaks as they landed together in a heap.

Gospel According to Luke landed with the pillowy unmanliness of the sofa beneath him, and the impressive unfitness of Lucille's breasts on top, the two of them bursting into laugh as, for a moment they tried to untangle themselves from one another, but instead lay settled, laughing and necking, her question by his, her warm breathing space against his cheek as she nuzzled him, the both of them just so beautifully happy.

"I can't believe you did that for me."She said softly, holding him close, one of his arms wrapped gently around her waist, embracing her.

He grinned a little bit,"Me neither, but I did."

She leaned up over him, hands moving to support herself as she again kissed him, needing to feel his sass against the fullness of her perfect ruby lips.

After a long present moment, she broke the kiss, leaning up and blushing, a few loosen Strand of haircloth falling down to frame her face.

"S-so um…"she bit her lip, her blush deepening as she stared down into his eyes,"Can we, you know, fuck now ?"

He felt his pith kerfuffle at the thought, remembering all he had seen and felt of her so far, his mind racing with sentiment of the two of them intertwined, he saw her in his mind, pressed down into the mattress, her arm outstretched, her ass raised, his rooster inside her, her moan and, just for a moment, he felt a pang of guilt.

A top of him he had the most beautiful, kind, loving woman in the world and he had almost thrown her away.

"Luke ?"She prompted, biting her lip, a little anxiety in her gaze at his silence.

He smiled reassuringly and nodded a minuscule,"Yes, but…"

"But ?"she asked, blinking down at him, her reflexion an occupy mix of lust and concern.

"But,"he swallowed a footling, he was unsure about this, but somehow it felt right,"But I want you to go first ?"

"R-really ?"she asked, her vocalism quavering with a sudden spate of excitement and when he nodded, a smile on his own rim she let out a genuine squeal of excitation, holding him tight.

If his self-mortification for almost letting this pure fair sex down was to spend half an hour making her feel as trade good as she deserved, so be it.

She scrambled off of him in a flurry of motion and pulled him to his fundament, giggling as she started to force him by his helping hand through the house, she kept glancing back at him as they darted upstairs, making a discrete line heterosexual person for her room.

As they entered he cast his gaze around her room, it being pretty much the only one that wasn't kept spotless, her clothes, kit and personal effect scattered messily on every flat control surface to the stage it was strong to recognize whether her floor was carpet or hardwood.

She let go and he stood there, only a small awkwardly as she knelt on the edge of her bed, tossing items off of it to brighten it for them, out of interest he glanced down and used his foot to poke at aside a tidy bra.

"Huh. You've got carpet."

kneel on the now clear bed she turned to present him, tilting her head curiously as she lifted her bird, displaying her perfectly smooth hillock, and balls,"No ! I keep myself polish !"

He blushed and opened his mouth to explain, but her manus snaked out and grabbed his neckband, pulling him forward and onto the bed, where he quickly found her hands rolling him onto his back, her lips at his, stifling any comment he might've made as her fingers began to nimbly undo the buttons of his shirt.

He moaned into the kiss as his hands moved to her, returning the favour as he began to strip her of her more modest garb, her eagerness increasing as her covered pelt was revealed to the cool air of the elbow room, their bodies pressing against one another, at first textile against framework, eventually skin to skin, both smooth.

"L- lem me just get some stuff."She panted a fiddling, shuffling off the bed. Luke, breathing keenly, leaning himself up on his elbows, he noticed that in their passion they'd almost entirely both undressed, only one air sock on his left over foot left remaining.

He watched her as she moved around the way, his eyes widening as he saw her in all her glory. She worked her way around her way and he marveled at her size of it, tall and lean but buxom, her heavy bare breasts bouncing, pap hard and wax, but it was her tool that drew his eye, their fooling around, disinvest and making out along with the promise of what was to come had left her with an unmissable hardon. Her dick was long and duncical, curved upwards slightly and bobbing with each step as she made her way around the room.

He watched, teasing off his finis sock, his own, more average sized pecker hard too between his thighs as she collected a rubber anchor ring which she stretched around the floor of her shaft, a smirk on her typeface as she did, moving on to dig a small item out of her clothing, an mp3 player which she plugged into some speakers and set to playing some quite loud bouncy tunes, finally moving to grab a small bottle and dimming the lights as she moved back to the bed, grinning hungrily.

The tight ring at the radix of her cock service of process to hold it seem even harder, the mineral vein up her pulsing length standing out prominently in the dim light.

As she crawled towards him, setting the little bottle of, he assumed and hoped, lubricant aside, she hesitated, smirking and pausing with her head above his cock.

With a playful expression she dipped her head down, kissing the tip of his hammer, with her good lips the behind roll of pleasure it brought instantly relaxed him, it was only then that he realised just how tense he had become after seeing her peter, not that that was especially surprising, her size was threatening to say the least.

"Relax lover, confidence me."she smiled and once again kissed the tip of his cock, leaning down to take it briefly between her lips, her tongue swirling around it, causing him to arch his back.

He relaxed more, letting the womanishness of the bed embrace him as he moaned out gently, her lips travelling further down over his stopcock as she began to take up, leaning against the bed on one shoulder as her hands worked at something.

As her lips rolled up and down his turncock, the music bouncing around the dim room muting the audio of his groan, the wetness of her mouth as she tongued his turncock opinion wonderful, he felt a finger, warm but slippy urge between his buttock, curving until the tip found and pressed against his virgin hole.

He bit his lip and almost tensed but a well timed whirl of her lingua all but forced him to relax to her desires, his hands gripping the sheet as she rubbed the wet substance against his character, moving back and forth a distich of times to apply more than and to a greater extent of the stuff until she judged it to be suitably prepared.

As she pressed down, taking his cock into her throat her finger pressed up into his pickle, the hoop tight and slip around her probing finger, letting it slowly sink into the welcoming oestrus of her new lover.

He gasped and squeezed down on her finger, but she was dogged, slowly working it in and out of his ass, getting him used to the new sensations that pervaded his body, an odd and alone tingling around his sensitive mob making him squirm as she picked up her pace.

The tingling sense mounted inside of him and he found himself squirming and writhing more and more, the delight inside of him mounting, his interpreter coming out ragged and necessitous,"A-ah, what, what did you use on me !"

She drew her lips up his cock until the crimson wet tip popped free, grinning up at him eagerly, her expression punctuated by a particularly deep energy of her finger,"Just lube-ish !"

"I-ish ?"he asked, wriggling down against her probing finger.

"Well…"she looked up at him, a glint in her eyes,"It'll also serve your cute ass relax a slight, you know, for what 's to come."

"L-like a numbing agent ?"he asked as she withdrew her finger's breadth, giving his pecker a kiss before, with surprising strength, she flipped him over onto his stomach, making him elongate out beneath her like a cat as she crawled up his body, her rooster, hot and hard as steel pressing against his lenient cheeks.

"Exactly !"she said gleefully and he looked over his berm, watching with confusion as she massaged Thomas More of the tingling lube into her straining cock.

"But you wo n't feel anything !"he protested, his deal gripping the edge of the bed as he watched the simper form on her face.

"I will ! Not as much, but I will ! Really it just means I'm going to hold up hooours… So I hope you're in the mood for a marathon !"she giggled gleefully and Luke realised just how much of an misplay he had made, character of him was hit with fright, another part with anticipation.

"L-like I have a option ?"he said, as she leaned down, her bare weighty breasts pressing and rubbing against his back as she kissed him gently behind the ear, her voice a hungry whisper.

"That 's the spirit…"

With that, the tip of her cock found his little fix and her supremacy began, her sway heavy tool head pressing against his slick gob, her integral length coated in the tingly, numbing lube.

He gasped and arched his backbone, the sudden force per unit area against his torso stunning, he tried to labor up with his knees but her not inconsiderable weight settled on him, pinning him as she purred in his ear, red painted back talk kissing at him, her breathing time hot on his skin as her hips skillfully tracked the movement of his, her tip struggling to press into his make relaxed mess, but drawing closer.

Like a dog she wrapped her arms around and under him, firmly holding Luke in shoes as her tidal bore cock lined up with its mark, pressing forward again and again until, finally, the head slipped in, drawing a breathless gasp from him, the invasion a sudden assault on the senses as she moaned in his ear, her white meat firmly pressed to his back as she shivered at the pleasure, despite the lube's numbing effects.

"Ooh fuck that 's good…"Lucille moaned as she let him adjust to the girth now stretching him before she would continue her subjection, enjoying the mental and strong-arm mastery of her original maybe a little too much, but she could hardly be blamed, he had after all almost sold her, this would be pretty damn cathartic.

"A-ah, Lucille, you're so big !"he whimpered under her and she couldn't help but giggle a footling as she kissed his head, her nose buried in his exuberant hair.

"Aw, sweetie, that 's just the tip, hail on, let 's have got some existent fun !"

With that the acclimation flow was seemingly over, her grip on him strengthened, her hands moving up under his arms to transfix his shoulders as she drove herself forward and down, pressing him into the bed sheet as her tool sank into him.

He gasped sharply, his spine arching down against the quilts as he felt everything inside him act out the way to take a crap room for her vast cock, he felt like he was being split in two but, against all expectations there was virtually no pain. Discomfort, but no pain.

She bit her to the full lip, staining her perfect teeth with her lip rouge as she began to hammer her cock habitation, driving it into his ass with wanton wantonness, the old Sir Henry Joseph Wood of the antique bed beneath them creaking obscenely in recognition of their lewd consummation.

Once he had caught his breathing spell, lost in the impression of her steeled barb glide in and out of his compactness, able to distinguish each and every vein as they passed in and out of his body, he became more and more vocal, his airless gasps turning into whine, moan and eventually shouts.

She grinned, panting hard, enjoying how each of her driving force into the hot piece of ass beneath her was punctuated by a burst of stochasticity from him, her actions synced with his external respiration to ensure no opportunities to make him squeal and wriggle were missed.

It didn't take long before their organic structure were sly with perspiration, the delight each of them were deriving intense despite impudent applications of her blunt lube.

To preserve herself from essentially doing pushups on his dead body all night she was immediate to urge him up into a kneeling position, propping him up with the lavish pillows she kept waiting around.

He'd looked surprised as he'd turned over a pillow to come up a pair of fluffy manacle, but she had taken them from him, setting them aside for later.

In doggie style, his back arched down, beading of sudor traced down from his buttocks to his back, her manus roughly squeezing and playing with his gorgeous buttock, as she ploughed her bounce prick into him time and clip again. With the ring, lube, her sheer drive and natural stamina he had no doubt that by the time she was done he would be in no country to return the party favour, at least not today.

As time flowed by in a fuzz, St. Luke felt the uncomfortableness all but fell, a hot throb deep within him not just coming from her engorged member but from his own core, a building delight that came to him torturously slacken. Desperate to find it, to experience it, despite the violate DoS he was in he began to labour back against her, weakly at first but soon growing in self-confidence and strength.

Lucille couldn't help but smile as she looked down at her fan and master, his tiny muddle stretched wide of the mark to welcome her throbbing stopcock, no longer suffering, or merely enduring but actively taking part in his salacious loss of virginity.

Finally, Lucille pulled out, the sudden absence of her rooster a bizarrely foreign superstar to Gospel of Luke as he flopped on the bed, panting and groaning, wondering if, in his lecherousness induced stupefaction he had missed her sexual climax, or if, maybe, she had even run out of stamina.

He felt hands on him, moving him, repositioning him and he felt something diffused and fluffy against his wrists, blinking his eyes open, he had been rolled onto his back, the sheets beneath him less welcoming as they had been initially, wet with the skulduggery of his pelt, wearily he looked up, jerking his sleeve slightly he realised his radiocarpal joint had been handcuffed, the downlike cuffs from before prominent around his wrists, a bar of intricate sword gridded headboard entwined in it, keeping his work force pinned above him.

He looked back to Lucille who merely winked playfully, leaning in to osculate at his chest, catching a nipple briefly between her teeth, drawing a whimpering gasp from him before she positioned herself between his thigh, easily sinking her cock into the moulded sheath that was his ass.

He arched his spinal column as his body once more began to bounce, in beat to her thrust, his body defenseless, his pleasure mounting as she rutted him like an brute, driving her coxa onward clip and time again, her heavy, broad and despairing nuts bouncing against his cheeks as she kept his ramification lifted over her berm, her half lidded eyes on his face, marveling in his expressions of wonder as she took him, her full bosom, hanging down slightly from her body as she leaned over him swaying to her thrusts.

Again time stretched as their lovemaking continued, her cock straining and pulsing with delight that ebbed and flowed, drawing nearer and nearer to the pointedness of no return, pounding him into a sexual submission that she hoped would last longer than this single marathon session.

His ass felt so sound around her cock as she tilted her caput back, letting the heartbeat of the euphony permeating the room into her soul as she matched her rhythm to the song, his walls were so hot and tight around her, squeezing and massaging her cock with each delve into him.

Luke panted and whimpered, his voice hoarse, his trunk exhausted, numb even, each leaping of his smaller frame against her curves draining more and more energy from him, but against the rising enervation, pleasure rose to gibe it, something inside him that had been straining for spillage suddenly managed to peek out, causing him to jerk his body up against Lucille's.

He wanted to pass down, to jack up himself off in the sudden moment of flood tide that washed over his body and mind, but despite his effort, his constraint held, the fluffy handlock forcing him to cum hands-free.

Lucille, lost in her own little mankind gasped in surprise as the joy around her meaty, steely jibe intensified, his ass milking her hammer as each pulse of his climax made his bulwark clamp down on her, squeezing her intensely.

She looked down, chewing her full lip as his cock, hard against his stomach pulsed, his interpreter coming out in high pitched pant as roofy after rope of his own sticky seed splashed against his torso, his cock cumming without ever being touched.

The lewdness of the scene and the delight of his ass gripping her cock was more than enough to push her quickly towards the edge, no longer striving to last longer but instead pushing herself to finish alongside him.

She felt the pleasure in her mount into the tipping point, so desperate for spillage but hampered by the nasty ring around the base of her cock. After a few More arduous, powerful thrusts she pulled her pecker absolve of the writhing soundbox beneath her, digit quickly slipping under the lubricant guileful rubber ring around the floor of her cock, whipping it off and allowing her climax to overwhelm her.

Her hands wrapped around the slickness wet length of her hot throbbing cock, digit flying up and down her veined shaft as her mind whited in the seventh heaven of climax.

Luke panted hard, his orgasm dying as a few last drops of cum dribbled from the tip of his stopcock onto his stomach, his breath coming hot and heavily. As his mind returned to him, he noticed the distinct absence of her rooster in his ass, his lips parted as he panted he opened his weary eyes, just in time to see her cock twitch and throb in her hired man, her backtalk open, natural language lolling as the kickoff rope of cum burst from her bobbing cock, joined by a cry of pleasure from her he felt it land across his neck and chest.

He bit his lip and closed his center as she watched him, watched him brace for her duncish Mexican valium of cum as they lashed across his consistency in a crisscross of muggy domination.

He felt her cum land on his expression, his neck, his chest, his stomach and his softening cock, each pulse rate aimed by her to surface him in as much of her cum as she could, his own comparably diminutive loading lost under the searing quantity of her own.

He whimpered softly as she moaned out, stroking her now wilting cock, the last few chain of her cum lazily flowing from her cock to pool in his belly button. Gently she reached up and, with a moist thumb wiped a strand of cum that had fallen across one of his eyes, smirking lovingly as he blinked open his center, meeting her gaze.

'' That was amazing Luke ... '' she said, barely audible over the thumping of the music.

Swallowing softly he half smiled, feeling exhausted and wanting only to sleep, his body needing to recover from what he had endured, `` Y-yeah it was ... Can ... Can you untie me now ? ``

Giggling a small Lucille nodded softly, looking down at his cum coated form as she leaned over, reaching for the cuff, picking up the key from the mattress beside her.

As she did, however, her softening stopcock trailed gently up his belly, picking up some of her cum.

She blushed and bit her lip, eying him for a moment before she set the key down, shuffling her hips forward until the tip of her cock, coated in her own cum was offered just before his lips.

'' ... As soon as we 've cleaned up, '' she said with a sly little smirk, pushing her semi-hard cock between his lips, letting him taste her cum, eliciting a moan from him.

She glanced down at his drenched dead body, by the time she had finished 'helping'him strip up with her cock, she thought, she 'd probably be set up to go again. She smiled that would still just technically count as one twist, right ?