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Tristan walked behind Aesia as she had instructed him to and followed her to the house. Traditional slave garb included a hood that could be pulled forward to cover the eyes. A slave should not make eye contact with any of the masters. For Tristan, the outfit added to the anonymity and covered the differences between him and the known species.They had landed on a bright sunny afternoon. Well stocked flower boarders buzzed with insects, and exotic scents assailed his senses. Tristan glanced at. But then I though; why the hell would he do that when he’s been trying so hard with his first murder plan? I took a sip from the cup and then she helped me drink the rest. “Better?” she asked softly. “You speak English too?” I said my throat a little hoarse from disuse. “I understand… better than I can speak” she said struggling with her words slightly. I nodded. She held some pheasant or some sort of drumstick in front of my face and I took a big bite out of it. She continued to feed me and. Quietly, I slipped it around Mom's waist and secured it, then adjusted the integrated cuffs so one was at the top of each hip. Gently, I lifted each arm in turn and snapped the cuffs around Mom's wrists. Mom waited, arms held beside her hips as if poised to push her hands into her pockets. I let her wait for another minute."Don't move."I knelt down behind Mom and started brushing my hands up the sides of her legs the same way I had done it the day before, except I took more time. I was. The thought of fucking my dirty little sister makes me so horny. What would mom or dad think, if they came out of their room right now. Their son sitting at the computer with his pants at his ankles, jerking off, while their sweet little princess fingers herself watching him.You let out a soft moan. Your eyes open wide, your left hand shoots up to cover your mouth. But I see your right hand still working your clit and you don’t take your eyes off me. Off my erect cock, my hand moving up and.
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