<span style="font-weight: bold">Samantha Belweather</span><br/><br/>NB: (you’re doing fine, Bright)<br/><br/>“I<span style="font-style: italic">meant</span>that you could take<span style="font-style: italic">me</span>back to<span style="font-style: italic">my</span>house,” I teased, “but I<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>thinking of inviting you in. The way that usually goes is we have coffee, and decide how we want to continue the evening.” I paused, smiled. “You did really well,” I told Jules. “A little stumble at the start, but after that, basically perfect.” I waited, for a moment, to let that sink in. “We’re a bit beyond a<span style="font-style: italic">practice</span>date right now,” I continued, running one fingertip down his chest.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Melissa</span><br/><br/>"Wha? Why is she doing that?" Clif said.<br/><br/>“You’ll find out,” I giggled. “Watch closely. It’s gonna be<span style="font-style: italic">so</span>fucking<span style="font-style: italic">hot</span>,” I continued, groping his chest as he squirmed and rubbed himself against me. The rough, wet fabric of his uniform scraped my nipples, making me shiver and squeeze him tighter.<br/><br/>"Why? What is she doing? Please miss, I need to get going, I've done my job and my superior shall be wondering what's taking so long," Clif pleads as he struggles weak in her grasp.<br/><br/>“Your job’s to take care of me, isn’t it?” I asked. “Well, I still need<span style="font-style: italic">taking care of</span>. Besides,” I smirk, “you can just tell her I wouldn’t let you go. Let’s get you out of these wet things,” I continue, tugging at the fastenings of his paramedic’s jacket, “you won’t be needing them.”<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Narrator for Clif</span><br/><br/>The girl - Sandy - simply grabbed the young man’s chain, and yanked him out from behind the toilet by his collar. She lifted him, bodily, by the neck, and snapped the leather collar free as easily as if it’d been made of toilet paper. Even from here, the man’s rank smell was obvious.<br/><br/>Then she bends at the waist, and guides his head to her ass. You can see his tongue, flashing out to lick and clean Sandy’s ass and asshole, and realise what his<span style="font-style: italic">job</span>must be. But Sandy, it seems, isn’t interested in that - she draws him closer still, till his face is pressed tight against her tight, round asscheeks. “No!” He shrieks, finally, though the words are somewhat muffled.  “No! I’ve been good! I’ve been good! Mmmph!”<br/><br/>“We don’t care,” Melissa laughs, and Sandy laughs with her.<br/><br/>“My butt is hungry,” Sandy explains cheerfully, as presses his head into it as her asscheeks begin to pull and tug, like lips swallowing a particularly<span style="font-style: italic">tasty</span>morsel. In moments, the man ends at his shoulders, and Sandy’s butt is girding itself to spread around them. He - whoever he was - is kicking and struggling, but it doesn’t seem to be making the<span style="font-style: italic">slightest</span>difference.<br/><br/>“Mmm,” Melissa purrs into your ear, clearly enjoying the show,<span style="font-style: italic">and</span>having you wrapped in her embrace.