“there is stillmore yet, although not much more” she cooed softly. I simplynodded, knowing that not even that was expected at this point.She led m... across theroom, every step I made was agony, blood seeping from the many woundsin my feet puddling on the floor, until she made me kneel in theroasting tin. I was given a glass of red wine to help with bath thefinal moments and my taste, then my feet were relieved of theirpainful burden and she once again brought out the twine.Soon, I was trussed. .." She looked around, thinking. "... that you once lived in California?"I squinted my eyes. What the fuck kind of question is that?! I slowly started shaking my head. "No, it isn't..."She shrugged. "Oh, alright. I'd just heard that somewhere." Seeing my face hold its current confused position, she laughed. "Calm down, Matt. We gotta start off slow."My face softened and I laughed. "I guess you're right. So, truth or dare?"She immediately said truth, shifting her legs to get comfortable. "Is it. I became unsteady and disorientated, the fog essentially making me blind and robbing me of all senses.I backed myself up the steep slope until I could feel the firm road surface beneath my shoes. I stood motionless. It was too quiet. I peered around in the gloom frozen to the spot. I could just about see the tree line. The fog and moonlight were casting the trees as sinister misshapen beasts. It was so quiet and all I could hear was my own breathing.Suddenly from nowhere I heard a voice. I. The girls were going swimming and their mom was at work. My wife has an international sale career and is away from home several days a week. Let me describe my angels for you. Pen, short for Penelope is the oldest and just turned 19. Julie is the youngest at 16. Pen has what I estimate to be a very nice c-cup and is wearing a string bikini that left very little to the imagination. Julie’s suit struggled to hold in the ample ass that she got from her mother. I look up from the TV as they walk.
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I rinsed the tub, dried and pulled on the only robe handy, a long terrycloth velour job that felt all snuggly and cozy. The waist was much too high fo
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