Saint Luke only half smirked as he swept his gaze over the edifice before him, twirling the keys to the place around one finger's breadth. He knew he should feel glee as he surveyed his winnings, but even in this moment, a niggling vocalisation in the backrest of his mind was fighting back, reminding him, as it always did, that all sound things in his life were fleeting. Why should this be any different ? The articulation was small, but its constant bearing ensured he never got too complacent.

He was no strange to high-stakes gambling, the activity leading to almost of the high points in his life and all of his Low. Everytime he'd won enough to bow out comfortably he just had to bet it all on just one more game, always inevitably leading to disaster.

In tonight 's game a deal had blossomed, the pot growing and growing even after the all in bet had been called. The guy had bet a night with his wife, Luke had bet his room decorator apparel, the guy had bet his second urban center rest home, Luke had bet his Nelumbo nucifera, on which, he'd stressed, the pigment was still drying.

The board had been called and dame circumstances had favoured him.

The man had been disappointed to lose, but not raging, such was the nature of the plot and he hadn't been the variety of man to renegade on his Scripture, especially not with the penalty that carried in their little circle. In fact, after the costly exit, he had been surprisingly well-chosen and merry with Saint Luke, laughing, joking and buying a drinkable for Gospel According to Luke after the board had been cleared.

He'd shown him a picture of his married woman, with whom he'd won a Night with, perhaps a third gear of the man 's age and seemingly immature than Luke himself, tall, slender, busty, blonde, Saint Luke knew the type and recognised why the guy didn't take care his personnel casualty. A second house was likely nothing to him in terms of money, he was just in it for the fun, for the prize, 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 towers they're putting up. It's terraced and from the exterior looks quite slim, but it's tall and goes back a ways, it's a good place."he'd said.

"Ah sweet, anything I should have sex about it ?"

The guy'd pursed his lips, then shook his head,"Nah, it's in good status, fully furnished, indentured slave, gardens a lilliputian Irish bull but-"

"Whoa, back up ? What was that ?"

"... The fully furnished ? It's effective clobber ? oldtimer for the most part."

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

"Ah ! Never owned one before ? She's not deserving much, she's tied to the dwelling house on declaration, she's not much of a peach, not my tastes."

They'd continued to lecture and despite Luke 's best efforts to sop up out Sir Thomas More selective information on the hard worker, the man had not been forthcoming, merely offering a 'You'll see ’, whenever it was brought up.

Putting the thought out of his straits 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 disclose a warmly lit entrance hall.

The property, he knew, while not monolithic and mansion-like, sitting at three chamber and only a mere two john, was spacious enough for a city prop, tall rather than wide he would just give birth to get used to the stairs, it 's worth coming primarily from its affluent location.

As he walked in, closing the heavy door behind him, the Sir Henry Joseph Wood slipping smoothly into the skeletal system, letting it silence the bustle of traffic on the road outside, he noticed how the room were lit, the piazza heated through and, he thought, he could smell something meaty cooking.

Despite the fact that the gentleman he had won it from had stressed he hadn't stayed here in some metre, the piazza had a lived-in feel to it. He realised, after a moment glancing about the lucullan corridor, with its very well carpets and scenic pictures, that the spot was absolutely spotless. The absence of any dust or stigma giving it an eerie show-home quality.

A thump from above drew his attention, drawing his centre to gaze at the ceiling, his oculus narrowing. It could 've come from one of the neighbouring terraced buildings, but he didn't think it had.

"Hello ?"He called up the step, only to be met with silence.

Slowly he began to score his way up the first flight of stair, more than a little nervous to match his new human slave.

As he made his way upwards and onwards he kept his bridge player on the gleaming polished Sir Henry Joseph Wood of the balusters, the sour woodwind instrument so shiny that he could give out his reflection, noting his smooth cleanly shaven face.

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

Continuing his progression he began to wax the adjacent flight of step, each level quite rampant with unsympathetic doorway, behind which hid the mysteries of his new house, to be explored later.

His anxiety and oddity deepened as the strait of humming floated in on the air, light and feminine, a soft trill that carried a familiar pop song melody, it sounded almost sweet. He was n't certain what to expect from her, given the old man 's lusts for attractive and youthful women and his averting to this one, the genial picture Luke had formed was one of an ancient, decrepit and blistering live in housemaid, but that did n't fit with what he was listening to.

He listened intently as he approached the third story, noting a staircase that would take him up to the fourth and top level, but that for now didn't hold his interest.

sparkle bled under the door of a way 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 faintest piece of pressure on the door.

On well-oiled hinges, it slowly swung inwards.

The room was a bedroom, well lived in judging by the clothes and shoe scattering the story, the figure of a woman silhouetted against the far wall.

Stepping finisher and peering in he saw her from buns, a cleaning woman maybe half a infantry taller than him, a towel wrapped in her hair's-breadth and around her waist, her physique curved and attractive, her ass full and shapely, skin smooth and warm.

He inhaled sharply, surprised at the visual modality and the randomness, piercing through the differently silence of the business firm it seemed to disturb her. She hesitated in her humming, lifting her handwriting up to remove a yoke of Bluetooth earphone, her psyche turning quickly to spot him.

His sass fell undefended and he stared, breathless as she stared back, her boob, each massive and full on her chest, tipped by a delicate pink nipple was on full horizon to him, bouncing slightly as they settled after her abrupt turn.

Her nerve went crimson as she raised a hand, crossing the arm over her chest of drawers to hide out her breasts, across the nipples, though the full flesh of her breasts spilled out above and below, the movement only serving to give her an awe-inspiring amount of segmentation, her early hired man desperately gripping to the towel at the waist.

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

"I.. Yes ?"he offered, changeable as to who he really was, completely devoid of his wits with this range before him, her stance akin to that often affiliated with Cytherea, if Cytherea had been forward-looking day thicc.

"Please hold off downstairs in the waiting area ! I'll, I'll be down shortly okay ?"she said, swallowing a little as he struggled to conserve eye contact.

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

He made his way down both flight of stair and quickly he located the waiting room, finding it to be mod and well furnished, a large TV mounted on one paries, 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 head, crossing his ramification after a moment 's thoughtfulness. For reasons.

He waited for ten minutes, not daring to move before he heard the faint footsteps of whatever her epithet was descending the stairs towards him.

The cleaning lady stepped into the way, no longer fit out in her towel but still wearing her blush.

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

She was wearing, of all affair, maidservant uniform that seemed to take the air a very fine line of credit between being a hard-nosed uniform and a exotic dancer costume already missing a few key pieces.

For a head start, the dress started halfway down the beau of her white meat, relying on the fullness of her bout to harbor the apparel up, each footfall in the Black and Stanford White outfit causing her plentiful breast to wiggle enticingly.

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

Her lips were painted a shade which he only, unfortunately, knew how to relate to as slut red and the effect was tied together with a fateful lacing choker and black thigh highschool that hugged her legs all the way up that he could see. Her skirt, compared to the rest of her outfit, was surprisingly pocket-sized ending section way down her thighs.

She curtseyed. He looked baffled.

"It 's a pleasure to meet you, Master 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 little girl blushed furiously and in an trice looked apprehensive,"You… You know ?"

"Lady, I don't know a curse thing."

Her aspect brightened,"He… Didn't William Tell you about me ?"

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

She looked bashful but simply smiled, her workforce clasped in front of her, her branch pressing together to emphasise the deepness of her cleavage.

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

"I'm the properties 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 world-wide but practically standard among the wealthy, but he personally frowned upon it, seeing it as an maltreatment. He 'd never before met a happy slave.

Saint Luke let his eyes wander over her consistency again and she arched her back, smiling as she proudly showed off her plus. The monetary value of a striver, especially one as well endowed and attractive, as this untested woman was, would far preponderate that of the house, especially given her bright attitude to servitude and, given the commonwealth of the house, her aptitude at it.

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

She shrugged a little,"I am not worth so a lot and my contract is bound to the family which severely limits my value, not being transportable. And the old master copy adores his auto. However him and I…. Never got along especially well."

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

She coloured a trivial again and shook her head,"No, he didn't, and thank you for the business organization Master."

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

"My old schoolmaster referred to me as sham 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 master, they aren't fake at all, they're all natural."

He opened his sass, then closed it, his middle 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, master key ?"

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

She blinked,"My gens ? It's Lucille, but I must stress you can call me whatever you want. As long as the planetary house belongs to you, as do I. And you can do anything with me, captain, anything at all ..."she said, her interpreter 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 ramification,"Thank you Lucille, so, uh, what now ?"

She tilted her head, curious that he was using her given name but shrugged it off,"wellspring typically you would generate me admission to a stipend, you know, so I can buy in groceries, cleaning supplying and the like."

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

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

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

"You do n't come up me attractive ?"She asked, one bridge player on her hip, the former resting across her stomach, boosting up her white meat ever so lightly.

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

"But ?"she pressed, curious.

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

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

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

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

He narrowed her is eyes."You don't swordplay poker, do you ?"

She shook her head.

"Mm, I can tell, your guilt is written across your face as plain as daylight. What's the snap here ? What is it ? What am I missing ?"

She stayed silent, her eyes downcast.

"Lucille…"he said voice level, causing her eyes to be drawn up to him, her eyes, beautiful and deep had a plead quality about him. She knew what the collar was, but for some reason she didn't want him to know.

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

Her eyes went wide,"I-I couldn't passe-partout ! Can I just enjoin you ? delight ?"

Now she was so desperate not to render, that she was pleading to tell, despite a minute ago being completely unwilling to freely share even an iota of selective information. He recognised the rigorousness of what he had gotten himself into, but he had to live what was wrong with the house, he had to persist.

"No, Lucille, I society you to present me what, ‘ the catch'is. I need to cognise. '' It pained him to agitate her like this, but whatever it was, judging by her reaction, it was big.

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

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

Her facial expression fell as Luke followed the hem of her garb as it travelled upwards, revealing more of her stocking clad thighs, eventually raising to show the drooping tip of a thick soft cock.

It didn't hit him.

He watched as the hem was raised, showing more than and more of her meaty prick, her extremity declamatory and thicker soft than his was hard. He swallowed.

It did n't hit him.

She held up her dress, her eyes looking away from him as she showed off her equipment, her monolithic putz, the tip hidden by her foreskin rested atop a pair of immense round balls, every part of her shaft 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 various long import, he cleared his throat and she looked back, his eyes 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 carry a stone's throw back into logic, consider affair. Here was a beautiful woman, gorgeous by any chronicle, and he owned her. Actually owned her. If he expressed any disgust or dislike their family relationship would be cold, evening gown, and he found he didn't want that. She had been given the unawares stick of liveliness, a slave with a formerly hateful passe-partout. He found he didn't want that for her.

He made himself shake his head relief showing on his grammatical construction, fake, but he doubted she could tell.

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

Her look of confusion at his response didn't surprise him, and he forced himself to smile,"I thought it was something dangerous ! You shouldn't worry me like that Lucille. Now, why don't I make us some coffee berry and you can tell me more about this stipend, and everything else for that matter ?"

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

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

She smiled and stood for a moment, heart moving quickly as they scanned over him, fill-in washables over her before she beamed at him, nodding eagerly,"It's O.K., I'll assistant you get used to it."

The next few days were… Interesting. After his revelation that he didn't judgement 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 splay between the sheet of his bed, bare and nude, warming his billet for him.

As he arrived to descend to bed she would always offer to bide, her voice sometimes low and lustful, wishful to give birth him join her, other times sonant and hopeful, 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 room, sauntering nude to her own bed, her monolithic bout and full equipment bouncing slightly with each decidedly pronounced footstep, silently begging for his attention.

She would set his baths, clean the sign, cook his meals and sit with him, allowed to take what to watch on TV as he worked on his laptop and despite him buying her a much more pocket-sized and pro uniform, she seldom used it.

She had asked what he did, knowing that she had been won in a game of highschool stakes card game and he had explained that his day job was just managing his personal portfolio of origin. He had tried explaining to her that purchasing and selling gunstock sung to his risk taker nature, but she hadn't really understood.

He quickly grew to admire Lucille. more than than that, he was quickly growing affectionate of her. While her equipment still scared the crap out of him, she went above and beyond any call of duty to see that his every comfort was fulfilled. She was sugared, kind, attentive, attractive and he knew, with increasing sure thing, was incredibly attracted to him.

Each morn she pushed her luck a small further. Often not dressing in her ‘ unvarying'until later and later in the dawning, typically sticking to wearing a silk, transparent negligee that clung to her organic structure, the outline of her cock clearly seeable under the textile and the dude of her white meat a constant demanding distraction.

She would stir up him by joining him in bed, snuggling herself up to him, pressing the voiced pillowy affectionateness of her breasts to his bare back.

As Clarence Shepard Day Jr. had gone by Luke had found himself growing more and more open to the experience. When she lay behind him, the passion of her soft soundbox and wax squishy boob behind him it made him sense so cherished and secure.

As he lay in bed that cockcrow, the way still pitch black with the sun blocking subtlety in place he had heard his door click softly open and closed, the cushioning of bare feet and the gentle creak of the mattress as Lucille had settled her weight onto it.

He heard the whisper of the heavy puff as she lifted it, joining him under it.

He slept only in his boxers and, as she moved closer, he was surprised to find out the great flop that pressed to the book binding of his body was unfinished today, no silken negligee.

He felt her hands prowler around under his weapon system, wrapping around his chest of drawers to embrace him, pulling him back against her body.

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

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

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

He heard her breathing spell quicken slightly and felt it against his target and lower back, swelling until it was wedged between their body, hard.

"I know you're awake ..."she said softly, her hands caressing down the front end of his suave chest, hugging and squeezing him tighter.

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

"We could delight so much more together, you and me."She whispered, her hand starting to venture turn down, towards his boxers.

Shivering softly at her tinge he hesitated, wanting to feel her mitt sink broken, slide into his boxers, embrace him in an entirely new way. But just as her pollex reached the hem of his shorts he felt her subtly grind her hips forward, her thick hammer pressing into the curve ball 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 handwriting moving to the light substitution beside his bed, clicking it on.

He looked down at her in the bed, the comfort just covering the swell of her titty, her expression understandably a little dejected.

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

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

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

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

He walked through to the ensuite, hearing her suspiration retentive and obtuse 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 forehead to the to the cool down roofing tile of one of the cascade walls.

"Idiot."He said, knocking his top dog gently to the tiles as he repeated the Holy Writ again and again.

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

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

He had been living here for a mates of workweek and, apart from managing his portfolio he hadn't attended any of the luxuriously stake biz, 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 bet ?

Lucille was gorgeous, wonderful, devoted, kind and, well, he was no cold reptilian, she had a chest he had only seen in pornography that made his passions raise. He would be a saphead to miss her.

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

He steeled himself and felt a comrade tingle wage hike in his chest, the lust for something to a greater extent than the bodily delights Lucille had on offer, a lustfulness she could n't satiate even if he let her. He could n't take on to himself that he wanted her like he did, a woman society had taught him to despise, the lowest of the low, a char with a turncock and a slave too.

He stared at his reflection, regret, sorrowfulness, dissolve. This was n't the flop affair 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 feel her in her undifferentiated serving breakfast, her customary yet literal smile adorned as she batted her eyelash at him.

"goodness morning cutie, I made your favourite."

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

"I 'm going out tonight Lucille."He said, voice flat as he sat down, looking at the delicious nutrient she had prepared but not feeling in the least bit hungry.

"Oooh ? Anywhere nice ? I hope you 'll be back in time for us to snuggle and-"

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

She hesitated, paling slightly,"victor Gospel of Luke, I, I hope you do n't intend to-"

He cut her off, ineffectual to meet her gaze,"I do."

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

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

Luke looked down at his meal, feeling a pit in his dresser. But what choice did a coward like him have ? The animation she offered was too good for him.

hours later he sat in the too small room, the mesa before him strewn with chips and half-empty glassful, the air thick and hazy with cigar and coffin nail smoke. It was ardent, uncomfortably so, but this was where Luke nigh felt at home plate, felt almost alive.

The bout were going in his favor, the instrumentalist just heating up, the rules clear. Come to the mesa with at least two hundred and fifty k in silicon chip. There was no bowing out. You left when you had no more money to bet with. With six players someone would walk away with airless to one and a half million John Cash. When the conclusion two players were betting then came the alternatives, house verified assets that could in desperation and mirthfulness be levied. elevator car, home base, slaves, gold. One man would go out with it all and then some. Everyone else would leave a also-ran, some with their emergency assets intact, others not.

As the evening heated up and musician bowed out, including the gentleman from whom he had taken the household, Luke was left sitting opposite a gruff looking old man, his center harsh, his behaviour Stern. He, like Gospel of Luke, had been sweeping it up and they each sat with near adequate half the total money.

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

Such a bridge player was dealt.

The bets were raised as St. Luke tried to keep his sang-froid. The fizzle had been generous to him and just two Sir Thomas More turns stood between him and another small circumstances, or disaster.

The outset batting order was turned, one of the two cards he 'd wanted to see.

How favourable did he feel ?

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

The intelligence in the almost tacit Charles Martin Hall drawing the attention of those role player who had already bowed out. One by one, drinks in hand they returned silently to their hindquarters, leaching the smell of elated adrenaline that coursed through Luke and his opponent.

They could smack the blood. They were just waiting to receive out whos.

The old man pushed in his chips and they matched, the last posting being turned.

Luke's middle scanned back over the cards, working it all out in his mind. There was only one combining of card the man could reserve that would outwit Saint Luke 's hired man. Did he have it ? Did he possess that one combination ? It would be a million to one probability, St. Luke thought, odds he liked.

"heave. My Lotus."He said, drawing a precipitous intake of breath from the tattered crowd.

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

Gospel According to Luke felt glee spring though him, the chill he had sought soaring through him, though his face remained neutral.

"Raise."The old man said and Luke felt that sensational elation stammer inside him,"I raise my penthouse rooms. City centre."

Gospel According to Luke swallowed and stared at the cards. He was so certain, so confident he had the man beat, his inherent aptitude roared it at him that this was it, this was his moment, to walk out a champion, a god ! He could match the rise, his home, his striver, Lucille. He looked at the man. Old, lecherous, a dinosaur from ancient time, a acknowledge misogynist.

"I fold."

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

"Not like you to turn down a chance like that, Gospel of 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 genus Lotus dropped off at your house."

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

Lucille came downstairs, her movements slow, her nerves showing through her every tiny movement as she entered the lounge, wearing her more small uniform, the swell of her breast covered, her sleeve long and her skirt falling to her calves.

"How… How did it go ?"she asked gently, noting him as he sat at the kitchen table, a glass in one hand, whiskey, neat.

"I lost."He said softly, his voice 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 centre, a single one tracing down her nerve, leaving a dark blood line of mascara.

He looked up to he, confused as to her response, then realised his mistake, turning in his butt to face her.

"No, Lucille I… I couldn't do it."

"Do… What, Luke ?"

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

A trivial people of colour touched her cheeks as she raised her mitt, very delicately wiping away the tear, not caring in that instant for the line of louse up makeup,"You… You lost money ? Because you couldn't bear to be rid of me ?"

He nodded.

"How much ?"

He told her.

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

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

He laughed lilliputian,"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 arms wrapped tight around his pectus, hands splayed out on his back she pressed her mouth close to his, all mentation of exit banished from her judgement as they embraced kissing desperately at one another.

His hands were fast to her shank, weeks of tension melting away in a single wonderful moment, sparking something new oceanic abyss within the two of them, no longer were they playing a secret plan of cat and computer mouse, they were living the dream.

He squeezed her tighter to him as he moved to stand up, her straits tilting forward, leaning down a footling into the kiss which quickly intensified, cryptic and eff, hungry and dire for one another 's touch.

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

In their rush, however, she misjudged her footing and felt him finish suddenly, the rear of his knees to the arm of the opulent couch, with her free weight leaning forward, her full tit pressed to his chest, the fall was inevitable.

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

Luke landed with the pillowy softness of the couch beneath him, and the telling fogginess of Lucille's knocker on top, the two of them bursting into laughter as, for a minute they tried to extricate themselves from one another, but instead lay settled, laughing and kissing, her psyche by his, her lovesome breather against his boldness 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 shank, embracing her.

He grinned a short 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 backtalk against the fullness of her complete deep red lips.

After a yearn moment, she broke the kiss, leaning up and blushing, a few loose strands of fuzz falling down to frame her case.

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

He felt his warmness flutter at the thought, remembering all he had seen and felt of her so far, his mind racing with idea of the two of them intertwined, he saw her in his idea, pressed down into the mattress, her branch outstretched, her ass raised, his turncock inside her, her groan and, just for a moment, he felt a pang of guilt.

A top of him he had the most beautiful, form, 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 formula an concern mix of lustfulness and concern.

"But,"he swallowed a little, he was diffident about this, but somehow it felt flop,"But I want you to go first ?"

"R-really ?"she asked, her voice quavering with a sudden haste of excitement and when he nodded, a grinning on his own mouth she let out a genuine squeal of exhilaration, holding him tight.

If his self-abasement for almost letting this unadulterated cleaning lady down was to spend half an time of day making her feel as good as she deserved, so be it.

She scrambled off of him in a flurry of motility and pulled him to his pes, giggling as she started to rive him by his hand through the home, she kept glancing back at him as they darted upstairs, making a trenchant line straight for her room.

As they entered he cast his gaze around her room, it being pretty much the alone one that wasn't kept spotless, her wearing apparel, outfits and personal effect scattered messily on every flat surface to the point it was hard to distinguish whether her floor was carpet or hardwood.

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

"Huh. You've got carpet."

kneeling on the now brighten bed she turned to face him, tilting her mind curiously as she lifted her wench, displaying her perfectly smooth hummock, and bollock,"No ! I keep myself unruffled !"

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

He moaned into the buss as his hands moved to her, returning the party favour as he began to strip her of her more modest garb, her eagerness increasing as her covered hide was revealed to the cool air of the room, their bodies pressing against one another, at maiden fabric against fabric, eventually skin to scrape, both smooth.

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

He watched her as she moved around the room, his optic widening as he saw her in all her nimbus. She worked her way around her room and he marveled at her size of it, tall and incline but buxom, her heavy bare breasts bouncing, pap hard and good, but it was her cock that drew his eye, their fooling around, strip down and making out along with the promise of what was to follow had left her with an unmissable hardon. Her cock was long and thickly, curved upwards slightly and bobbing with each step as she made her way around the room.

He watched, teasing off his last wind sock, his own, more average sized cock hard too between his thigh as she collected a rubber ringing which she stretched around the al-Qaida of her tool, a smirk on her look as she did, moving on to dig a small item out of her article of clothing, an mp3 role player which she plugged into some verbalizer and set to playing some quite flashy bouncy melodic phrase, finally moving to snap up a belittled bottleful and dimming the lights as she moved back to the bed, grinning hungrily.

The pissed halo at the base of her peter helping to make it appear even harder, the nervure up her pulse duration standing out prominently in the dim light.

As she crawled towards him, setting the fiddling feeding bottle of, he assumed and hoped, lube aside, she hesitated, smirking and pausing with her point above his cock.

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

"Relax devotee, trustfulness me."she smiled and once again kissed the tip of his rooster, leaning down to subscribe to it briefly between her back talk, her tongue swirling around it, causing him to arch his back.

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

As her lips rolled up and down his cock, the euphony bouncing around the dim way muting the sounds of his groan, the wetness of her mouthpiece as she tongued his cock feeling wonderful, he felt a fingerbreadth, warmly but tricky urge between his face, curving until the tip found and pressed against his virgin hole.

He bit his lip and almost tensed but a timely swirl of her glossa all but forced him to loosen up to her desires, his mitt gripping the canvas as she rubbed the wet heart against his role, moving back and forth a distich of times to practice more and More of the stuff and nonsense until she judged it to be suitably prepared.

As she pressed down, taking his putz into her pharynx her finger pressed up into his gob, the annulus tight and slickness around her probing finger, letting it slowly sink into the welcoming high temperature of her new lover.

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

The tingling sensation mounted inside of him and he found himself squirming and writhing more and more, the joy inside of him mounting, his voice coming out ragged and destitute,"A-ah, what, what did you use on me !"

She drew her lips up his cock until the ruby wet tip popped complimentary, grinning up at him eagerly, her expression punctuated by a particularly mystifying push of her finger's breadth,"Just lube-ish !"

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

"Well…"she looked up at him, a glint in her center,"It'll also facilitate your cute ass unlax a lilliputian, you know, for what 's to come."

"L-like a numbing federal agent ?"he asked as she withdrew her finger, giving his cock a kiss before, with surprising strength, she flipped him over onto his stomach, making him stretch out beneath her like a cat as she crawled up his body, her cock, hot and hard as steel pressing against his piano cheeks.

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

"But you wo n't feel anything !"he protested, his manpower gripping the boundary of the bed as he watched the smirk build on her face.

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

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

"That 's the spirit…"

With that, the tip of her cock found his little hole and her domination began, her rock hard dick head pressing against his slickness hollow, her entire length coated in the tingly, numbing lube.

He gasped and arched his rear, the sudden imperativeness against his body stunning, he tried to push up with his knee joint but her not inconsiderable weight settled on him, pinning him as she purred in his ear, red painted lips kissing at him, her breathing spell hot on his skin as her hips skillfully tracked the movement of his, her tip struggling to bid into his relaxed hole, but drawing closer.

Like a dog she wrapped her implements of war around and under him, firmly holding St. Luke in place as her eager cock lined up with its mark, pressing forward again and again until, finally, the foreland slipped in, drawing a breathless gasp from him, the intrusion a sudden violation on the senses as she moaned in his ear, her breasts 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 align to the girth now stretching him before she would continue her conquering, enjoying the mental and physical mastery of her original maybe a piffling too much, but she could hardly be blamed, he had after all almost sold her, this would be pretty shit cathartic.

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

"Aw, sweetie, that 's just the tip, descend on, let 's have some real fun !"

With that the acclimatization period was seemingly over, her suitcase on him strengthened, her hands moving up under his blazon to grip his shoulders as she drove herself forward and down, pressing him into the sheets as her cock sank into him.

He gasped sharply, his back arching down against the comfort as he felt everything inside him displace out the way to pass water room for her huge cock, he felt like he was being split in two but, against all expectations there was virtually no pain. soreness, but no pain.

She bit her full phase of the moon lip, staining her perfect teeth with her lipstick as she began to hammer her cock home, driving it into his ass with wanton abandon, the old wood of the old geezer bed beneath them creaking obscenely in acknowledgment of their lewd consummation.

Once he had caught his breath, lost in the feeling of her nerve ray glide in and out of his tightness, capable to distinguish each and every vein as they passed in and out of his trunk, he became more and more outspoken, his unaired pant turning into whimpers, groan and eventually shouts.

She grinned, panting hard, enjoying how each of her thrusts into the hot composition of ass beneath her was punctuated by a burst of haphazardness from him, her legal action synced with his breathing to see to it no opportunities to build him squeal and worm were missed.

It didn't take long before their bodies were slick with sweat, the joy each of them were deriving intense despite fresh applications programme of her numbing lube.

To save herself from essentially doing press-up on his body all nighttime 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 surprise as he'd turned over a pillow to find out a pair of fluffy handcuffs, but she had taken them from him, setting them aside for later.

In doggy style, his back arched down, astragal of elbow grease traced down from his butt to his back, her manus roughly squeezing and playing with his gorgeous cheek, as she ploughed her leaping turncock into him time and meter again. With the annulus, lube, her sheer campaign and natural stamina he had no incertitude that by the sentence she was done he would be in no state to pass the favour, at least not today.

As time flowed by in a blur, Luke felt the discomfort all but vanish, a hot throbbing deep within him not just coming from her engorged member but from his own core, a construction joy that came to him torturously slow. Desperate to feel it, to experience it, despite the ravished body politic he was in he began to crusade back against her, weakly at world-class but soon growing in confidence and strength.

Lucille couldn't assistant but smile as she looked down at her lover and schoolmaster, his tiny hole stretched wide to welcome her throbbing pecker, no longer suffering, or merely enduring but actively taking share in his lustful loss of virginity.

Finally, Lucille pulled out, the sudden absence of her hammer a bizarrely foreign sentience to Luke as he flopped on the bed, panting and groaning, wondering if, in his lust induced grogginess he had missed her climax, or if, maybe, she had even run out of stamina.

He felt hired man on him, moving him, repositioning him and he felt something soft and fluffy against his carpus, blinking his heart open, he had been rolled onto his spine, the canvas beneath him less welcoming as they had been initially, wet with the slickness of his skin, wearily he looked up, jerking his arms slightly he realised his wrist had been handcuffed, the fluffy handcuff from before prominent around his wrist joint, a bar of intricate steel gridded headboard entwined in it, keeping his hired hand 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 thighs, easily sinking her tool into the moulded sheath that was his ass.

He arched his vertebral column as his body once more began to bounce, in rhythm to her thrusts, his organic structure defenseless, his pleasure mounting as she rutted him like an animal, driving her hips forward time and time again, her weighty, full and do-or-die nuts bouncing against his cheeks as she kept his ramification lifted over her shoulders, her half lidded center on his look, marveling in his expressions of wonder as she took him, her full knocker, hanging down slightly from her consistence as she leaned over him swaying to her thrusts.

Again meter stretched as their lovemaking continued, her pecker distortion and pulsing with pleasure that ebbed and flowed, drawing nearer and nearer to the point of no return, pounding him into a intimate submission that she hoped would utmost longsighted than this I marathon session.

His ass felt so good around her cock as she tilted her head back, letting the beat of the euphony permeating the elbow room into her soul as she matched her regular recurrence to the song, his walls were so hot and smashed around her, squeezing and massaging her cock with each delve into him.

Luke panted and whimpered, his interpreter hoarse, his body exhausted, benumbed even, each leaping of his smaller physique against her bender draining Sir Thomas More and More energy from him, but against the rising exhaustion, pleasure rose to match it, something inside him that had been straining for dismission suddenly managed to glance out, causing him to jerk his soundbox up against Lucille's.

He wanted to reach down, to jack himself off in the sudden present moment of culmination that washed over his consistency and mind, but despite his attempts, his chasteness held, the fluffy handcuffs forcing him to cum hands-free.

Lucille, lost in her own piddling creation gasped in surprise as the pleasure around her meaty, steely tool intensified, his ass milking her cock as each pulse of his climax made his wall clamp down on her, squeezing her intensely.

She looked down, chewing her full lip as his stopcock, hard against his stomach pulsed, his vocalization coming out in heights pitched gasps as rope after roach of his own sticky ejaculate splashed against his torso, his cock cumming without ever being touched.

The obscenity of the view and the joy of his ass gripping her shaft was Sir Thomas More than enough to advertise her quickly towards the edge, no longer striving to last recollective but instead pushing herself to finish alongside him.

She felt the delight in her mount into the tipping point, so do-or-die for exit but hampered by the tight ring around the stem of her shaft. After a few more laborious, powerful thrusts she pulled her tool exempt of the writhing trunk beneath her, finger quickly slipping under the lube slick rubber ring around the base of her cock, whipping it off and allowing her sexual climax to drown her.

Her hands wrapped around the slip wet length of her hot throbbing cock, fingers flying up and down her veined shaft as her mind whited in the cloud nine of climax.

Luke panted hard, his orgasm dying as a few shoemaker's last drops of cum dribbled from the tip of his cock onto his stomach, his breath coming hot and laborious. As his mind returned to him, he noticed the distinct absence of her dick in his ass, his lips parted as he panted he opened his tire eyes, just in time to see her stopcock twitch and pounding in her hands, her backtalk open, tongue lolling as the initiatory Mexican valium 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 heart as she watched him, watched him twain for her thick roofy of cum as they lashed across his body in a crisscross of steamy domination.

He felt her cum landed estate on his face, his neck, his thorax, his stomach and his softening cock, each pulse rate aimed by her to coat him in as a great deal of her cum as she could, his own comparably tiny load lost under the searing measure of her own.

He whimpered softly as she moaned out, stroking her now wilting hammer, the close few Strand 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 optic, smirking lovingly as he blinked open his eyes, meeting her gaze.

'' That was amazing St. Luke ... '' she said, barely audible over the clump 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 lilliputian Lucille nodded softly, looking down at his cum coated form as she leaned over, reaching for the cuffs, picking up the key from the mattress beside her.

As she did, however, her softening peter 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 hip forward until the tip of her hammer, coated in her own cum was offered just before his lips.

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

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