“You are so goddamned wet, girl,” Deidre whispered in her ear.Jessie was so lit up at this point she could do little more than whimper. Everything about this situation had been orchestrated just so to overcome her consider sexual appetite and prowess. To turn her into a desperate leaking slut ready to do anything to get off.“I’ve got one more special chair for you to try. I think you’re really gonna like this one.”Deidre took Jessie into her arms once more, gently slipping her tongue between her lips. Hands cupping Jessie’s ass, and then sliding up to maul her aching tits. Mouths battling for supremacy, both women attempting to drill to the back of the other one’s throat with their passion. Deidre’s thigh wedged its way between Jessie’s, and then Jessie had to no choice but to slide her drenched pussy against that offered leg, mashing her clit into the toned flesh of her tormentor, searching for release somehow.Then during it all Jessie felt the leg pull away, leaving her. He wore a handlebar mustache, leather vest, jeans with a huge belt buckle, and a black shirt with a bola tie. Aunt Liz and Uncle Jim sat at a table, wearing expensive tailored clothes. He wore a well-cut brown suit and a bowler hat. A full beard covered his gaunt face. Aunt Liz wore a beige dress with a vest of red crushed velvet over it. Atop her head sat a black, beige and red hat with a flimsy beige veil hanging from the brim. The financier and his wife. My brothers and cousin Mark sat at the bar, wearing grimy, once white shirtsleeves. They hadn't any of them shaved in days. Dirt covered their hands and faces. Miners. Natalie was up on stage. She wore black leather boots, fishnet stockings, a purple garter, a purple corset trimmed with black lace, a black choker, and black leather gloves with purple lace. A strip of black fabric fell down her backside, the sort that could be found on fancy dresses of that era. But she seemed to have lost the rest of the garment. My sister's fake.
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