“I feel great, Sir”, I reply. “And I will be eating, just not dinner.” Lowering myself to my knees, I crawl under the table until I am kneeling between his feet. I slide my hands up his legs, stopping at the fly of his pants, looking up at him through my lashes.
Tag: 50's housewife
Breakfast is Served
Role play is an area we don’t navigate much, so it was fun to try something new.
