been any doubt as
to the intent of Silkie Trevor’s actions. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes still closed, a slight
puckering between her brows as she concentrated on pleasuring herself.
“God,” Julian breathed. Completely ensnared by what he was seeing, he slid his hand down the front of
his britches to grip his cock, his fingers spanned beneath it, his thumb flexed on the coronal ridge. He
began to move his hand back and forth on his engorged member as Silkie Trevor reached up to pluck at
the nipple of her right breast.
Not even realizing he did so, Julian shoved his hand down the front of his silk trousers and gripped
himself, his index and middle fingers splayed in a downward V shape at the base of his cock, his palm
lying tight against his pubic hair, his thumb pressing into the lower part of his belly. His breathing
increasing, he slid his other hand into his trousers and gripped the end of his cock, sliding his thumb and
index finger in a tight coil around the head of his throbbing shaft. Working alternately left then right, he
rotated the head of his cock, twisting slowly at first but as he watched Silkie pleasuring herself, his action
increased in speed and in the tightness with which he held the tip of his cock. He envisioned his tool
sliding into her creamy channel, tightening around him, bringing a wet, wild sensation of intense
satisfaction to his rock-hard shaft. Heat flared through his lower body and he could feel sweat popping
out on his upper lip and in the center of his chest. He could smell the ripe aroma of his pre-cum and he
imagined the musky scent of Silkie’s cunt drifting to him from the steaming water in which she now
reclined. His heart was racing, his breathing ragged as his hand moved faster and faster, pulling, twisting,
elongating his shaft while at the same time pressing his other hand hard against his belly and his pelvic
region.
He was on fire with a need he had not felt in many years. It wasn’t just the relief he knew he had needed
for so long but the sensual woman pleasuring herself in the room beyond that made his blood sing and his
cock throb with a life of its own. He stared at her half-closed eyes—memorizing her beautiful face, letting
his fevered gaze slide over her luxurious breasts. He ached to touch them, to suckle them, to draw the
rosy tips deep into his mouth, to scrape his teeth lightly across them until she was writhing beneath him in
complete abandonment, her body his to enjoy, to pleasure, to possess.
“Silkie,” he whispered and the rhythm of his hand increased in direct proportion to the rubbing of the
loofah between her thighs. He could not take his eyes from her dewy face and as he did, he saw the
exact moment her passion became full blown. He was but a step behind her, his own face mirroring the
depth of the pleasure that came roaring up to claim him.
Their orgasms came at the same instant, stunning Julian as he stood there quivering from head to toe, his
knees so weak he had to lean against the wall to steady himself. His breathing was as ragged as hers,
their hands trembling as they reached in tandem to push away a stray lock of sweat-dampened hair from
their foreheads.
Those dual actions were like a sign to Julian St. John. He took them for the omens he had long sought.
“You will be mine, sweetness,” Julian vowed, his eyes locked on hers as though she could see through
the hidden camera lens into his secret place. “No matter what else I do to you, you will be mine!”
Long into the night he watched her from the mini-cam hidden in a branch of the headboard. He kept vigil
over her supple body as she lay naked on the floral coverlet. He watched the delicate rise and fall of her
chest, smiled at the movement of her eyes as she dreamt, ached as he stared at the glistening pelt over
her womanhood. By the time he tore himself away and staggered lust-drunk from his observation space,
he was once more a lonely
to the intent of Silkie Trevor’s actions. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes still closed, a slight
puckering between her brows as she concentrated on pleasuring herself.
“God,” Julian breathed. Completely ensnared by what he was seeing, he slid his hand down the front of
his britches to grip his cock, his fingers spanned beneath it, his thumb flexed on the coronal ridge. He
began to move his hand back and forth on his engorged member as Silkie Trevor reached up to pluck at
the nipple of her right breast.
Not even realizing he did so, Julian shoved his hand down the front of his silk trousers and gripped
himself, his index and middle fingers splayed in a downward V shape at the base of his cock, his palm
lying tight against his pubic hair, his thumb pressing into the lower part of his belly. His breathing
increasing, he slid his other hand into his trousers and gripped the end of his cock, sliding his thumb and
index finger in a tight coil around the head of his throbbing shaft. Working alternately left then right, he
rotated the head of his cock, twisting slowly at first but as he watched Silkie pleasuring herself, his action
increased in speed and in the tightness with which he held the tip of his cock. He envisioned his tool
sliding into her creamy channel, tightening around him, bringing a wet, wild sensation of intense
satisfaction to his rock-hard shaft. Heat flared through his lower body and he could feel sweat popping
out on his upper lip and in the center of his chest. He could smell the ripe aroma of his pre-cum and he
imagined the musky scent of Silkie’s cunt drifting to him from the steaming water in which she now
reclined. His heart was racing, his breathing ragged as his hand moved faster and faster, pulling, twisting,
elongating his shaft while at the same time pressing his other hand hard against his belly and his pelvic
region.
He was on fire with a need he had not felt in many years. It wasn’t just the relief he knew he had needed
for so long but the sensual woman pleasuring herself in the room beyond that made his blood sing and his
cock throb with a life of its own. He stared at her half-closed eyes—memorizing her beautiful face, letting
his fevered gaze slide over her luxurious breasts. He ached to touch them, to suckle them, to draw the
rosy tips deep into his mouth, to scrape his teeth lightly across them until she was writhing beneath him in
complete abandonment, her body his to enjoy, to pleasure, to possess.
“Silkie,” he whispered and the rhythm of his hand increased in direct proportion to the rubbing of the
loofah between her thighs. He could not take his eyes from her dewy face and as he did, he saw the
exact moment her passion became full blown. He was but a step behind her, his own face mirroring the
depth of the pleasure that came roaring up to claim him.
Their orgasms came at the same instant, stunning Julian as he stood there quivering from head to toe, his
knees so weak he had to lean against the wall to steady himself. His breathing was as ragged as hers,
their hands trembling as they reached in tandem to push away a stray lock of sweat-dampened hair from
their foreheads.
Those dual actions were like a sign to Julian St. John. He took them for the omens he had long sought.
“You will be mine, sweetness,” Julian vowed, his eyes locked on hers as though she could see through
the hidden camera lens into his secret place. “No matter what else I do to you, you will be mine!”
Long into the night he watched her from the mini-cam hidden in a branch of the headboard. He kept vigil
over her supple body as she lay naked on the floral coverlet. He watched the delicate rise and fall of her
chest, smiled at the movement of her eyes as she dreamt, ached as he stared at the glistening pelt over
her womanhood. By the time he tore himself away and staggered lust-drunk from his observation space,
he was once more a lonely
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