Read Online FreedomofThree by Liberty Stafford - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Liberty Stafford
Tags: Erótica
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cabinet for the next occupants to see, urging them to take a session with the masseur named Devon.
Next into her room was a young hopeful actress who, in truth, would probably never remember more than a page worth of lines, and along for the trip was her sugar daddy, funder of all. Lorne was incredibly rich, an entrepreneur businessman, who had come to Botanica on a fact finding mission for the hotel he planned to open back home on Gargantua where he had become rich mining gold, silver and zinc. Tilly was his actress mistress and this business trip gave him the perfect opportunity for some alone time.
Lorne had promised Tilly some fun, but failed to leave his business brain behind. Tilly got quickly bored of watching Lorne on his laptop, crunching figures and writing down details, so she booked a massage recommended in the mysterious bedside note.
Tilly was a pretty girl, nineteen years old, and her ancestors were originally from Sweden many years ago. She was medium in height with astonishingly white blonde hair, worn in ravishing natural waves that lent an extra softness to her already sugarplum demeanour. She had high cheekbones and pouting lips that constantly looked as if she were sucking a peach.
Whilst Tilly enjoyed her massage, she began to get bored as she often quickly did. She slipped under Devon’s hands and turned onto her back, her breasts wantonly exposed. Tilly was angry at Lorne. He was ignoring her and she was too beautiful to be ignored.
“I hear your massages are, erm, special,” she enquired in her sweet squeak of a voice.
“Really?” Devon feigned no knowledge.
“I’m really bored. So bored!” She petulantly banged her fist on the bed. “Kiss me.”
Falling into Tilly’s open arms, Devon kissed her plump mouth. Tilly was an incredible kisser and the urgency of her tongue let Devon know that she was not playing around. Her already luminescent, flawless skin glowed with a cool comfort as Devon took off his paper thin sarong, pulled her towel to the ground and straddled her. Tilly absentmindedly toyed with her round breasts with her candy pink fingernails running around her small, circular, strawberry pink nipples.
From a nearby table, Devon pulled a small bottle of oil. He gently spread Tilly’s pale pink legs and lips apart, revealing the rebellious red insides, and put a tiny spot of oil on his middle finger. Slowly, very deliberately, he found her clitoris and rubbed round and round and round. Devon became extremely hard, hiding his second organ even though it begged for pleasure.
Devon put the bottle of oil between her legs and squirted it so that spurts of warm oil touched her clitoris or flew onto her belly, running back down her silky thighs and onto the soft, warm towel. Spreading surplus oil onto her hands, Tilly sat up a little and took hold of Devon’s cock, softly and in small jerks, pushing back his foreskin until it slipped deliciously to her rhythm. In the darkened room, they kissed with abandoned passion, growing hornier by the second, knowing their forbidden time would never be repeated.
With slippery ease, Devon pushed himself into Tilly’s warm welcome. Her long eyelashes fluttered. He placed his hands at the top of her thighs, his thumbs towards her vagina, massaging her lubricated lips against his hardness. Tilly looked like a starlet, so pretty and unassuming, her pouting lips ready now for the lines.
Changing position, bored again, Tilly turned over and showed Devon the money shot. Her ass was raised prone, revealing her pretty shades of pink. The soft underbelly of the soles of her feet rocked her backwards and forwards. Covered with clear juices, Tilly raised her vagina up and bounced her ass cheeks until they shook like two small mounds of pink blancmange. She turned her head and, with a wild look upon her innocent face, demanded that Devon last as long as he possibly could.
Although he was enjoying the view, Devon did as instructed and slowly slid his
Next into her room was a young hopeful actress who, in truth, would probably never remember more than a page worth of lines, and along for the trip was her sugar daddy, funder of all. Lorne was incredibly rich, an entrepreneur businessman, who had come to Botanica on a fact finding mission for the hotel he planned to open back home on Gargantua where he had become rich mining gold, silver and zinc. Tilly was his actress mistress and this business trip gave him the perfect opportunity for some alone time.
Lorne had promised Tilly some fun, but failed to leave his business brain behind. Tilly got quickly bored of watching Lorne on his laptop, crunching figures and writing down details, so she booked a massage recommended in the mysterious bedside note.
Tilly was a pretty girl, nineteen years old, and her ancestors were originally from Sweden many years ago. She was medium in height with astonishingly white blonde hair, worn in ravishing natural waves that lent an extra softness to her already sugarplum demeanour. She had high cheekbones and pouting lips that constantly looked as if she were sucking a peach.
Whilst Tilly enjoyed her massage, she began to get bored as she often quickly did. She slipped under Devon’s hands and turned onto her back, her breasts wantonly exposed. Tilly was angry at Lorne. He was ignoring her and she was too beautiful to be ignored.
“I hear your massages are, erm, special,” she enquired in her sweet squeak of a voice.
“Really?” Devon feigned no knowledge.
“I’m really bored. So bored!” She petulantly banged her fist on the bed. “Kiss me.”
Falling into Tilly’s open arms, Devon kissed her plump mouth. Tilly was an incredible kisser and the urgency of her tongue let Devon know that she was not playing around. Her already luminescent, flawless skin glowed with a cool comfort as Devon took off his paper thin sarong, pulled her towel to the ground and straddled her. Tilly absentmindedly toyed with her round breasts with her candy pink fingernails running around her small, circular, strawberry pink nipples.
From a nearby table, Devon pulled a small bottle of oil. He gently spread Tilly’s pale pink legs and lips apart, revealing the rebellious red insides, and put a tiny spot of oil on his middle finger. Slowly, very deliberately, he found her clitoris and rubbed round and round and round. Devon became extremely hard, hiding his second organ even though it begged for pleasure.
Devon put the bottle of oil between her legs and squirted it so that spurts of warm oil touched her clitoris or flew onto her belly, running back down her silky thighs and onto the soft, warm towel. Spreading surplus oil onto her hands, Tilly sat up a little and took hold of Devon’s cock, softly and in small jerks, pushing back his foreskin until it slipped deliciously to her rhythm. In the darkened room, they kissed with abandoned passion, growing hornier by the second, knowing their forbidden time would never be repeated.
With slippery ease, Devon pushed himself into Tilly’s warm welcome. Her long eyelashes fluttered. He placed his hands at the top of her thighs, his thumbs towards her vagina, massaging her lubricated lips against his hardness. Tilly looked like a starlet, so pretty and unassuming, her pouting lips ready now for the lines.
Changing position, bored again, Tilly turned over and showed Devon the money shot. Her ass was raised prone, revealing her pretty shades of pink. The soft underbelly of the soles of her feet rocked her backwards and forwards. Covered with clear juices, Tilly raised her vagina up and bounced her ass cheeks until they shook like two small mounds of pink blancmange. She turned her head and, with a wild look upon her innocent face, demanded that Devon last as long as he possibly could.
Although he was enjoying the view, Devon did as instructed and slowly slid his
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