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... ders and pulled him close until their bodies were touching each other.

She then whispered into his ear, "I want to be your naughty slut tonight. I want you to use me as your slave, plaything, and fucktoy until you’re satisfied. Make me feel like a bitch in heat, begging for you to breed me again and again until there’s no more sperm left in those big balls of yours."

Those words sent shivers of excitement down Oliver’s back. He couldn’t resist this opportunity any longer. So, wit ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

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