As she passes them out, my phone buzzes with a text from ‘Lord Tristian’. Discreetly, I open it under the table, completely unprepared for what greets me: a picture of his erect cock. Lord Tristian: T-Bone misses your pretty mouth. I fumble the phone, stiff with shock. After a moment, another text rolls in. Lord Tristian: Maybe when you get over being mad at me, you can finally collect your treat.
