90-DAYS WET
Censia
Every time I thought I was at my limit, Kade would whisper something cruel in my ear, or Brian would deliver a spank that reignited the fire in my blood, and I’d find a second wind.
By mid-afternoon, I was lying splayed out on the rug, my legs shaking uncontrollably.
I was covered in a film of their cum, my skin tacky and smelling of musk. The sheer stockings were torn, and the maid’s apron was hanging by a single string.
Kade walked over and stood between my spread legs, looking down at me like I was something he’d found on the bottom of his shoe.
"You're holding up better than I thought," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "But we’re only halfway through day three. Brian and Ken have some... ideas for the basement. Something involving the old weight rack and some of that rope we found."