Moan day again! Nab your free copy of The Riding School, if you haven’t already… and settle down for some Monday naughtiness!

The Ties That Bind
There was no question that she was wet. Dripping wet. These days she was always soaked. But having two heavy, vibrating balls slammed into your cervix was an experience she was not going to forget in a hurry. Finally she got a grip on her tongue. “So,” she said breathlessly, feeling his mouth hovering above her nipple, “where are the Van Gogh’s?”...
Published on October 25, 2015 19:00