Indian Honeymoon In Thailand

“Hey, it’s water-based lube, don’t look at me like that. Before you try to ask, no, you don’t have a choice. I know we haven’t stretched your ass in a while, but that’s what it’s there for, right? You know I always have a reason for making you get enemas.” Staying out of the stream of water so it continued to beat down unmercifully on my cunt, he prepped my ass quickly and started pressing in the toy. I threw my head back and gasped past the gag, arching. “Slut. I know you can take it.” I shut my eyes tight and relaxed the best I could, making a hiccupping sound when it popped in the rest of the way. “Perfect. All the way in, good girl! Now for the hard part.” I blinked at him dazedly. The hard part?I watched him cautiously and my eyes widened as he pulled out some weights that could be hooked together. “You know, sometimes I love your short attention span. If you were paying attention, you would have noticed the little hook at the base of the toy buried in your ass. Go on, guess. Sitting at the back of the room, analysing Hamlet’s inner struggles, Anna slowly became acutely aware of the physical distance between her and Rhys. The measurements seemed to pulse and glow, and the conflicts of the Prince of Denmark seemed singularly irrelevant. And every day from 3 to 5, Rhys would plunge into the lap lane, and Anna would pretend she wasn’t watching. But her sketchbook slowly began to fill up with muscular shoulders, a torso covered in droplets of water, a face with dark eyes staring straight ahead. Anna took to shopping for lingerie – not like she needed anything other than the plain Target bras her mother bought for her, her mother, who would scoff if she knew her 17-year-old wallflower daughter was spending her hard-earned part-timer money on lacy ribboned things. Anna herself didn’t know why she was buying them really. But occasionally, in front of her mirror at home, she would cup her big breasts in yet another new bra, slip another pair of French knickers.
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