The Glass Half Full

“I really don’t know what else to do with you,” she said, her tone sweet, as always, but severe. “If you can’t follow my instructions and do as I say while I’m gone, then you’ll require supervision and that’s all there is to it.”

“So what, you’re saying you got me a… what, a sitter?”

She smiled at the word. “You can think of Audrey however you like. But she is an extension of my discipline and I expect you to do what she says and to treat her with respect. Now look,” she said, looking at her slim wristwatch, “she’s going to be here any minute and I’ve got to finish getting ready, so why don’t you just go and make yourself presentable.”

She turned back from the closet and sat down at her vanity, slipping on her black high heels and donning a few tasteful pieces of jewelry. I couldn’t believe how strict and unrelenting Sarah was being. Ever since we had moved in together she had grown more and more demanding, imposing arbitrary rules and exacting ridiculous punishments when they were broken. I couldn’t believe it had gotten this way.

She had told me pretty clearly as things started getting serious between us that she had found she was a “dominant woman,” but I had thought… I don’t know, I guess I had thought that would mean things like holding my hands down when she rode me and pushing me around. I hadn’t known she’d be so… bossy. And now this.  It was true, what she said about not following her instructions, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. There had been a couple slips and mistakes, I guess– loading the dishwasher the wrong way, incorrectly folding her laundry– but she hadn’t really been upset with me until the last couple of days.

Two mornings ago she had sat down at the breakfast table while I was having my coffee, and she produced a thick-walled shot glass that she had pulled off of the espresso machine. She let it clack to the table as she set it down, let me look at it and back to her, and then she rested her hand next to it and pointed to the thin white line above the text reading 1.5 oz.

“When I return,” she had said, “I want you to have this filled to this line with semen. No more, no less.” I was agog, but I had learned better than to question her orders or make too much of a fuss, so I looked down at what I had ahead of me and with that she kissed me on the head and left for the day.

And I tried. I really did. It was exciting at first actually, and shortly after she left I settled down on the couch with some pornography and my trusty lubricant. I was anticipating filling the glass in three or four goes, anticipating proudly displaying my efforts when she returned, but when I came, holding my penis over the rim of the glass, I was shocked to see how little I produced. It barely filled it a fifth of the way. What’s worse, as the day went on my emissions were smaller and smaller. There just wasn’t time.

When she came home the glass was on the table where she had left it, about two thirds fuller than it had been that morning. I sat down in front of it at the usual time, knowing I had no more to give. I heard her come in the front door and I waited, and when she finally appeared in the kitchen I felt her look wordlessly at it sitting there. I heard the sound of her steps as she approached the table and watched her pick up the glass and hold it up to her eye level, and then she gave me a stern look before going to the sink and staring at me as she poured all my hard work down the drain.

“Come to the bedroom,” she ordered, and as I followed her in she sat down on the edge of the bed and ordered me to take down my pants and underwear as she pulled up her slim, professional skirt, and then she snapped the fingers of her free hand and pointed to her pantyhosed knees. I bent over across her legs and she opened them to let my exhausted dick fall between her thighs, and then she kicked off her heels, bent across me, and slid them underneath my face. She made sure my nose and mouth were nestled into her shoes before squeezing her legs tightly back together and beginning to rub her hand in circles around my bottom.

This was the standard position for my punishments, the way she always spanked me when I had failed to do something she wanted, and I braced myself for what was coming…

The next day she said I would have the chance to try again, and again she set the shot glass on the table. My second try was more pathetic than the first, my store having been depleted from the day before, and despite masturbating four times I barely managed to fill the glass halfway.

I was nearly shaking by the time she walked in, knowing I had failed twice and that therefore my punishment would be more severe, but to my surprise she simply clicked her tongue when she saw it and shook her head a little as she walked back out of the kitchen.

When we went to bed that night I was still surprised to have avoided another punishment, another spanking at least, but when I laid down she picked up her phone and left the room to make a call. When she returned she got in with me and took up her book and read for a few minutes before saying goodnight and rolling over to sleep.

She broke the news to me shortly after we had woken up, after I had made her some coffee and she had begun getting ready to leave, that she had convinced an old friend of hers to come and supervise my efforts and to ensure that this time I would do as she said, and I was just thinking about what exactly that might mean when I heard the knock at the door.

Sarah ordered me to my knees and I watched as she stepped across the tile foyer and opened it to reveal the woman she had summoned. Audrey, as it turned out, was rather beautiful actually.  As they greeted each other warmly I was struck by her bright eyes and sharp features, her height and her short, curly blonde hair. She wore nothing particularly severe, just a pair of fashionable designer jeans over her golden brown ankle boots with a smart blouse and blazer combination on top, carrying a large but reasonable handbag over her shoulder, and she glanced over me as Sarah welcomed her into the living room.

I heard Sarah’s voice faintly as I waited there, knowing better than to wander in unbidden, and then finally after a few minutes I heard her call for me. She snapped and pointed to the ground at her feet as I appeared in the doorway, and I approached the couch where she and Audrey were sitting and sat down beneath them.

“He’s usually quite well behaved, but it seems he needs a little extra looking after so I appreciate you coming by. Now I’ll be back a little earlier than usual to get things ready for the party tonight, around 2, so it’ll need to be finished by then, but I’m sure I can count on you.”

“Absolutely,” she said, looking me over cheerfully. “I don’t think we’ll have any problem this time, will we?”

I didn’t have the chance to answer, but I looked at her and thought perhaps she was right.

“Good,” Sarah said. “Well I’ve got to be going but I’ll leave it with you and I’ll see you both when I get back.” They both stood up and I walked her to the door where she kissed me before turning to leave.

I closed the door and turned back towards the living room, and was surprised to see Audrey across the room behind me, standing on the threshold with her arms crossed, leaned against the doorway and tapping her foot softly as she looked me over. She turned and went back in and my heart started pounding as I followed.

“Well,” she said, indicating the couch as she took off her blazer and sat it on the chair nearest to her, “we haven’t got much time to spare. Sarah tells me your best efforts so far have been pretty pathetic so we may have our work cut out for us.” She rolled up her sleeves and adjusted the collar of her shirt in the mirror and then she turned around with the shot glass in her hand and set it down firmly on the coffee table between us.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she continued, staring down at me where I sat as she leaned over. “I intend to get what I came for one way or another, and I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive.” She began unbuttoning her blouse and I looked down at the bottle of lube next to the glass. “Go ahead,” she said. “Pick it up. Take down your pants too.”

I popped the cap open and pulled down on my pajama bottoms, finding myself more than ready as I watched her elegant black bra emerge over her flat abdominals, noting the subtle flush of her chest and the way her hips pushed forward as she rested her hands authoritatively on them.

I couldn’t believe how lucky I was, the lengths that Sarah had gone to, or how incredible Audrey looked. She smiled indulgently as I started and she shook her hips a little, lifting her leg and setting her heel on the seat of the chair before sensually tracing her leg as she reached down to unlace her ankle boot, her slender fingers brushing the abrupt 3 inch heel. She did the same with the other and kicked them off seamlessly before turning around to slowly pull down her jeans.

I sighed and licked my lips as her perfect ass emerged and I felt myself getting closer. Her jeans made their way down revealing a sheer pair of black stockings with lacy tops that hugged her thighs and seams that ran all the way down the backs of her legs, and she stepped out of them and spun around, locking eyes with me as she stepped confidently up onto the table. I thrilled again as she squatted and slowly brought herself back up, and I nearly forgot the shot glass but at the last second it caught my eye and I grabbed it before spurting emphatically into it.

I opened my eyes, huffing and puffing as my heart rate settled down, and she was standing in the same place with her feet flat on the table and her hands on her hips again. She snapped her fingers and grabbed for the glass, and I sat up with my hand still holding my dick and gave it to her.

“Let’s see how we did, shall we?” She held it up just slightly above her and shook it gently, watching my cum slosh around. “Not bad,” she said, her eyes flicking back down to me, and then she turned swiftly, raising her right leg and lunging forward, planting her foot on my shoulder and leaning down over me, holding the glass up next to her face.

“Now,” she said, her voice taking on a sharp edge, “this is how it works. You and I have this glass to fill and we’re a long way behind. You’re already in trouble for having failed to do it thus far, and therefore every time you cum without having filled this glass you’ll be punished. And trust me, the punishments will get worse as we get closer to 2 o’clock, so you are really gonna want to get it full. Understood?”

She reached down with her free hand and grabbed my face, mashing it between her fingers and her thumb. “You’re gonna have to start shooting bigger loads than that if you want to get out of this. It’s gonna be a long fucking day. Now get up.”

She pushed off of me and stood herself back up on the table, carefully setting down the glass, and then stepped down as I got up. I reached down to pull up my pajama bottoms and she snapped her head back to face me. “Uh unh,” she said. “Oh no you don’t. Take those off. You’ve lost your pants privileges until I get what I came for. Get up and stand over there.”

I went where she said, instinctively turning my hips away from her, but she snapped at me to turn towards her and ordered me to stand with my legs apart. “Hands at your sides!” she barked, and I knew what she was about to do.

Quick as a flash she whipped her leg forward, expertly missing my balls and snapping my still hard dick with the top of her foot. I winced and doubled over. She grinned wickedly and ordered me back up, and I had barely breathed before she did it again, my knees trembling as I resisted the urge to fall down on them. I tried to speak, tried to stammer out a plea for mercy, but she snapped two more kicks to my penis before taking a quarter step forward and kicking me square in the balls.

That crumbled me, and I rolled over on my side clutching my package, and as I groaned I sensed her move to the other side of the room where she had left her bag. Her voice fell back over me as she returned.

“We’ve got to punish that precious little cock and balls for not doing what your Mistress told you, don’t we?” She stuck her foot back against my shoulder and rolled me onto my back. “They’ve gotten you into a lot of trouble, and I’m gonna make sure we get them working again.”

She ordered me onto my hands and knees, and once I was in position I felt the thick, sharp, abbreviated smack of her crop on my thighs, quickly and gently at first as it made its way up my backside and then landing hard against my cheeks.

“You’re gonna learn that when your Mistress tells you to do something you’re going to get it done and that there are consequences when you disobey her.” She stung me several times with it as she spoke, tapping me gently in between, and then she swung her leg over me and sat down on my back, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling my head back while she reached back and continued.

After a couple of minutes she scooted back and lifted herself off of me, and then stuck her foot into my side and pushed me back down to the floor. She stood there for a moment, looking down at me with her arms crossed, her crop still in hand, and then she snapped her fingers and sat down on the couch.

When I went over to her she looked up at me sweetly and patted the spot next to her. “Come on. Sit down,” she said. “It’s time to go again.”

She handed me the lube and took the glass in her hand, eyeing the level again as I began. “You’re gonna have to give me a nice big one now. I’ve got something worse in store for you if you don’t.”

It took me longer this time, but I finally shot and felt glad to have made progress, but when I looked at Audrey again I could tell she wasn’t pleased.

“I don’t think you’re really trying,” she said, shaking her head and shaking the glass. “That one was half the size of the last one! Get down on the floor.” I was still sighing and breathing as she sprang up and pulled the coffee table away from the couch, snapped her fingers again and pointed to the floor.

“You are not going to embarrass me,” she said, returning to the couch. “You’re gonna cum until I fill that glass and if you don’t start doing better than that things are going to get very bad for you. I’ve been nice so far. You don’t want to see what happens when I get mean.”

She stuck a foot onto my shoulder and lifted her ass off of the couch as she pulled down her black satin panties, revealing her neat, trimmed bush. She reached down and shoved them in my mouth and brought her hand back to her vagina, and she spread her lips so I could see how wet she was.

“I’m gonna show you what it really looks like to cum,” she said, rubbing her fingertips on her clit, “and then you’ll know what I expect of you.”

I watched the middle fingers of her other hand disappear into her pussy and she reached into her bra and pulled out a tiny, powerful vibrator. She hit the button with her thumb and it started singing, and she bucked and sighed as she brought it to her clit.

I felt her toes grind into my shoulder as she tensed and got closer, and she started moaning and shaking and arching her back, and then suddenly she stood up and squatted over me. I watched her gush and heard her fingers slamming in and out of her, and then quickly she pulled them out and she sprayed my face with her squirt. She groaned as it rained down on me, and as I tensed and squinted reflexively I felt my mouth wrap tightly around her musty panties.

“That’s more like it, huh?” she panted, wiping her pussy with her hand and smearing it on my forehead. “That’s how you ought to be cumming for me.” She lifted her foot and stepped onto my stomach, bringing the other one alongside it and slowly making her way onto my chest. “You’re gonna have to start showing a little more enthusiasm, or I am gonna grind you so far into the ground that you’ll be looking up at the soles of my pantyhosed feet for the rest of your puny little life.”

I grunted and groaned into her panties as she trampled me, and I felt her weight through the silky nylon of her stockings. She stepped on and off of me a few times and then stepped off again and planted her left foot on my face.

“And another thing,” she said, leaning forward and letting her weight crush down on my face. “I’m going to start ruining your orgasms. I’m sick of watching you get so much pleasure while you fail me. From now on you’re going to cum with my feet or my ass in your face and I’m going to make you stop before you can really reach satisfaction. Just because I’m milking you doesn’t make this about your pleasure.”

She stepped off, turned around, and then squatted again and lowered her sweaty ass onto my face. She kicked her legs out so that her full weight was on my head, and then she said, “Now we’re going to sit here until you’re ready to go again, and you’d better not keep me waiting.”

She smothered me for the next ten minutes or so, grinding her ass in my face periodically and lifting herself off to let me breathe, and then finally I tapped her leg to let her know I was ready.

But unfortunately she didn’t get off of me. She simply repositioned herself, bringing her legs back underneath her, and I felt her squeeze a little of the liquid onto my palm and place the bottle against my leg. I began, and she started rocking back and forth, showing me her pussy and mashing herself back onto my face.

“Come on, bitch!” she shouted. “Take that ass in your face!” She started bouncing harder and faster. “Cum for me!”

I felt my orgasm starting, felt my balls contract, felt her heat and the brush of her crotch against my face, and I started breathing heavily and gripping myself tighter, but, true to her word, she waited until she knew I couldn’t hold back any longer and then she grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away. She raised my arm up against hers and sat back to smother me again, and I felt all the sensation cease except the cool of the glass on my stomach, and, helplessly, I came.

It was so incredibly frustrating, and I groaned and humped desperately beneath her, feeling only the rim of the glass against my shaft as she caught what was drizzling out.

To my surprise, after a moment she pushed my hand back down and lifted herself up, and frantically I worked myself back up again, but again, she pulled my hand away at the last second and pushed her ass back in my face.

“Mm, good boy,” she said. “That’s better. If I let you have a full orgasm are you gonna spurt good for me?”

I nodded emphatically, my pursed lips and squinting eyes being pressed further into her, and then she returned my hand and I quickly came for the third time. This one was so intense, and I clung tightly to it, letting it take me and feeling so empty and spent afterwards. She caught it all, laughing softly to herself, and then I heard the glass clink on the coffee table as she got up and left me to recover.

“That was better,” she said, sitting down on the couch, stretching her legs out, and resting her heels on my calves as she watched me breathe with her panties still in my mouth. “I guess by now you’ve earned a few minutes to recover. But don’t go falling asleep. You’re not nearly done yet.”

A minute or two passed before I heard her set her phone down on the coffee table, and the brightest, gentlest piano melodies began spilling out into my consciousness. I rolled over onto my side, and felt the haze drift through my mind, and I sensed her get up and step over me before pulling her panties out of my mouth.

My eyes felt so heavy, I kept them shut, and I rested.

When I opened them again the music was gone, and I knew I had fallen asleep. I blinked and looked around, not seeing Audrey, and then from above me I heard her whisper, “Bad boy.” I turned onto my back and saw the soles of her feet clad in dirty white ankle socks, just for a moment before she pushed them down onto my face and pushed my head back to the floor.

I shifted beneath them and felt how crusty and dirty they were, how thick and grimy, and even before I smelled them I could sense the way they reeked.

“You were doing so well, too, but now I’m going to have to punish you just for that. Do you like my gym socks? I brought them along just in case I really had to get rough with you. I’m sorry to have had to resort to this, but you did disobey a direct order and you’ve cost us some valuable time.”

She shifted her right foot to my cheek and lifted her left so that I could see it clearly, the discolored imprint of her foot soaked into the fabric, and she flexed it and pointed it as she continued. “They’re my only pair you know. Gym socks that is. And not by accident either. They’re the dedicated pair that goes with me every time I work out, soaking up all my sweat and stink.” She traded their positions. “I wear them with the running shoes I’ve had for five or six years now. And I only ever wash them when they get too dirty from the changing room floor.”

She lifted the right one up with the left, and then leaned forward so that her pretty face peeked out beyond them. “You’re going to have to smell them now, and if you’re lucky I won’t shove them down your throat before I squeeze that last cumshot out of you.”

She lowered them down quickly. “Smell them! Smell my socks!”

I knew I had to do it, but I resisted.

“Smell my socks or I’ll throw this whole shot glass in your face and we’ll start all over again, and I’ll ruin every single orgasm until you fill it all the way up.”

I cringed, feeling desperate, and she shook my face under her feet, and then I finally broke down, and I smelled. Immediately I wished I hadn’t, wished I hadn’t fallen asleep and put myself in such an awful position. They smelled horrible, like nothing I could have imagined, and I felt her stink invade me.

“Do it again! Smell ’em like you mean it! Smell ’em like you’re really sorry.”

I sniffed deeply, trying to appease her, but she made me smell them over and over, wiping them on my face and humiliating me further by making me kiss them. It took a long time for her to be satisfied with my punishment, so long that her sweat and stink absorbed into my skin and I kept smelling her feet on me even when she pulled them off me and made me roll over.

She climbed off of the couch and stuck a knee in my back, and she grabbed for my hair again. I felt her reach back to pull off her socks as she held back my head. She held them out and dangled them in front of me. “Not so lucky I guess.” She wadded them up and shoved them into my mouth, and I whined as I tasted their salty grime. “You shouldn’t have resisted.”

She reached up on the couch and grabbed a pair of handcuffs, and she ratcheted them down on my wrists. Then she grabbed my hair and pulled me up on my knees and I sat there looking forlornly at the front door while she stepped to the other side of the room behind me.

I heard the ripping sound of velcro, heard the pop of another bottle, and heard the gentle scrape as she picked up the glass from the table.  I could feel her walking up behind me, and as she stepped around my left side I saw it, and I felt my eyes well up as I let a muffled sigh out into her socks.

“Now look,” she said, holding the glass and a bottle of thick, viscous lube on either side of her pale pink strapon, “we’re behind now, we’re running late, and I told you I was gonna get what I came for one way or another.  Your Mistress will be home in half an hour and I will not allow her to be disappointed again.”  She gave the glass a little shake, my cum sloshing up to the 1.5 oz line, so close and yet so far from full, and she continued.  “You won’t have time to go twice, and there’s only one way to be sure I get every last drop you’ll need to make your Mistress happy.”  She set it down in front of me, popped the cap on the jelly, and squeezed a thick stream of it out onto her dildo.

“So I’m gonna fuck it out of you,” she said.  I whined again, looking pleadingly up at her, and she leaned down and whispered over the squelching sound it made as she spread it over her toy.  “I’m gonna bend you over and fuck you until your prostate swells up and you give me the nice big load you’ve been holding out on me with.”

I shook my head gently, desperately, begging and pleading with my watering eyes.  “It’s the only way,” she said.  “Come on.”  She looked past me and nodded towards the couch.  “Put your chin on the edge of the cushion.”  I prolonged the inevitable for as long as I could, but ultimately I looked, turned, and shuffled to where she commanded, my wrists still cuffed behind me, my mouth still full of her dirty socks, feeling the burn of the carpet on my knees.  I heard her set the glass down on the table again, and she reached with one hand to push me forward while she stuck her other between my cheeks.

The thick, wet lube was cold on my asshole, and it exacerbated my tension.  I saw her drop the little hand towel from our bathroom that she used to wipe her hands to my side, and then I felt her right one seat authoritatively above my hip.  I felt her dildo behind my scrotum and against my taint, guided by her left hand, seeking out my hole, and when she found it my eyes widened one last time as I felt her press against it.

I was so exhausted, so worn out and spent, that when she started applying pressure with her hips I couldn’t believe how easily I opened up to receive her.  I felt her push in the head, and then she reached up for my shoulder and pulled my chin off of the couch, letting the carpet kiss my forehead as she slid the rest of the way inside.  My eyes closed and her socks received my short, truncated groan, and then all I could do was take her.

She fucked me softly to get going, and then she slid the whole shaft in and out, slowly filling me and pumping deeper inside.  There was nothing I could do now, nothing except get fucked until she was ready to finish me off.  My head rolled to the side and I felt my swollen penis loll between my legs, ready for her touch, ready for the single squeeze that would satisfy her.  She thrust inside me harder and I opened my eyes just in time to see her carefully place the shot glass beneath me, and she put her hand on the small of my back and pushed.

She slowed down.  I relaxed and felt the cool of my semen on my penis as she maneuvered my hips, carefully guiding the head into the glass without touching it.  “Careful now,” she whispered.  “If you knock it over there’s nothing I’ll be able to do.  Your Mistress will come home and you’ll be in real trouble with both of us.  So be careful.”  I did what I could to keep myself perfectly still as she pumped inside me the last couple of times, and then she reached for my balls and held them firmly.

The last thing she did was to guide her thumb to the base of my shaft, on top, and she squeezed, and then pulled the whole thing towards her once.  That was all it took.  I sighed and moaned, doing my best to keep still, and felt a massive load come pouring out of me.

She waited, and she waited, and then finally she sighed and landed a firm but gentle smack on my ass.  “Okay dirty boy, let’s see how you did.  Careful now.”  She pulled out gently, and for a split second I was terrified, but she held me still and she reached under me to retrieve it.

I waited as she held it up and inspected it, and then she got up and I heard it clack on the table one last time.  I let my knees scoot out from under me and I flattened myself against the carpet, pressing my worn out dick into the fibers, and in time she came to unlock the handcuffs and pull the socks from my mouth.  She turned me around so that I was laid out in front of the couch, where the coffee table had originally been, and I blinked as I looked up at where it was now.  On the edge, just far enough away for comfort, was the shot glass, filled exactly to the line.

I hardly noticed the sound of the velcro as she took off her harness, or the sound of the sink in the nearby bathroom, or even the clink of her belt as she put her jeans back on, but when she stood over me again she was fully clothed, looking just as sharp and presentable as the moment she walked through the door.  My tired gaze fell back down to the floor and to her stiff, lacy, golden brown ankle boots.

She stepped over me and I felt her rest her heels on my back as she sat down and stretched out her legs.  I sensed her cross her arms and sigh, and she kept me there until I heard Sarah’s key in the door.  She kept me there until Sarah had called out to greet her and crossed the foyer, her heels sounding on the tile.  She kept me there, until Sarah had asked her how things went, was caught up on the day’s events, and was presented with what she had asked for, just as she had asked for it.

Audrey rose and stepped over me again, taking the glass from the table and looked at me as she handed it to Sarah, who looked at me as she took it.  She held it up to her eye level and inspected it, as Audrey had, and then smiled and took it with her as she walked Audrey back to the front door.

“Thank you so much,” I heard her say as they air-kissed each other on the cheeks.  “I’ll call you.”

“No trouble at all,” she said.  “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.”

The door shut, and I heard Sarah’s footsteps again but this time they went the other way, into the kitchen. When I finally could pick myself up off of the floor I went in and joined her, and found her laying out frozen appetizers on a baking sheet. She turned and punched the buttons on the oven, the beeps chirping through the large space, and then she walked around the island and kissed me softly on the cheek.

“Go and get cleaned up,” she said. “Our guests will be here soon.”

I went back into the master bathroom, past the vanity where she had broken the news that morning, that morning that felt such a world away, and I showered. I dressed myself and combed my hair, and when I returned to the living room I found it in perfect order once again.

I followed the sounds of laughter and conversation out onto the back porch, where Sarah was pouring drinks for Maxine, Heather, and April, three of her friends from the college they had all gotten their Masters degrees from, her famous blackberry spritzers. They all greeted me warmly, and we hugged, and I sat down with them beneath the patio umbrella, glancing at the sun beginning to set behind the trees.

“Oh!” said Sarah. “I’ve forgotten an extra glass. I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared for a moment and Maxine asked, “So, what’s keeping you busy these days?”

Sarah returned holding my freshly poured drink, and I thanked her, and as I brought it to my lips I looked past the rosemary garnish and the single juicy blackberry, and I noticed that the three ice cubes floating at the top were different from the others. They were milkier. Cloudier. And they were larger than the rest.

“You’re welcome,” she said, setting the pitcher down on the table. She leaned in to kiss me on the cheek before sitting down, and just before she did she whispered, “Drink slow.”


© 2018

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