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Then I look him in the eye and ask"Would you like me to suck your cock?" Yes", he answers with a trembling voice. I lean down and put my face against ...is dick. It smells clean and good. I hold his foreskin all the way back and take my tongue and taste his frenulum. I lick up and down the shaft of the penis with my tongue."Do you like it?", I ask and he replies with a trembling yes. I close my lips around his dick and feel the smooth soft gland in my mouth. He groans as I increase my suction on. I placed one foot forward, opening the slit in the skirt. I lowered my chin and looked toward him, up through my lashes. "Yes Master," I purred.That got him! He turned and his jaw dropped. He managed to get the plate of croissants back to the counter before dropping it. He was wearing my favorite of his robes. The one I liked to steal when I stayed here. I never brought a robe when I stayed at his house, just for the excuse to wear it. I loved its softness and how it smelled of him and his. The gas tank, a portable 200 gallon fuel trailer with electric pump, was kept a ways away from everything else, just in case. Power for the place ran off a gasoline generator.Most of the set up and tear down stuff was handled by Jackson, but it was Ben's camp, and he was proud of it. Ben's pad was a prefab wood framed tent. His bike and an old worn ramp with day glow flames sat outside his door.Inside, it had a marine issue cot & foot locker. A hardwood dresser, booty from a raid, sat in the. She had, in turn, drawn up a list of suspects, none of whom included Charles Spiderton. Michael the butcher’s son, a handsome man if a bit lacking in cleverness. Professor Rasputin, charming and newly arrived from far away lands. Nicolas Nightengale, once a soldier in the King’s army who looked quite dashing in his uniform, or so she thought. But never, ever, ever did she suspect the true origin of the offerings, a fact that The Spider was gleefully aware of. You see, he had hatched a nefarious.
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