”“I don’t understand.”“I think she is asking whether she can come here.”“I see. Yes, whenever she wishes. Tressler visits, why not Louis...?”“I will tell her.”Josef reported that she would be here before 16:00. I told him to make certain there was both coffee and tea as well as several sorts of sweets.“I have spoken at length with Dr. Forster and he has been good enough to call upon me,” Louise began.“That shows excellent taste on his part, my dear.”“Otto! Don’t play the fool with me.”“Very well.. Tired out from a hard day lurching about a tilting deck, winching, setting sails, furling sails, and getting facefulls of sea water, being rained on and generally getting chilled to the bone (ah, the joys of sailing in English waters) ... there’s very little better than a mug of hot cocoa. I’ve said it before, what man hasn’t, we may not be very good at picking up the non-verbals, but sometimes the message is so obvious even we can get it, and I was pretty certain I was getting a very definite. A hand pressed gently against each of her inner thighs, encouraging her to open further. She complied, desperate and eager. She felt the warmth of breath against her, each breath almost tapping against her in contrast to the cold air of the room. Her hips resisted the urge to close the distance, instead wiggling anxiously against the pressure of the hands against her thighs. And then, the tip of a tongue, pressing gently through the folds, teasing gently around the spot, driving her mad with. My plan had worked, she made no more protests as I learned that I was the first to taste her; at one point I stopped licking and instead had sucked some of the juice that had accumulated inside her. I drank the hot nectar and continued to eat her out. She tasted so good. Salty, yet sweet. Tangy and juicy. It was like a drink only reserved for gods that was accidentally sent down to earth.I lapped my tongue thru her pink inner slit over and over as she groaned softly. I couldn’t get enough.
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