I was thinking about what was to come. I was admiring my tight flat tummy and brushed my fingers over my pubic hair. When I saw them enter the driveway, I went to the top of the stairs, out of site. I wanted to listen and watch as much as I could before hiding in the closet for the peep show. They walked in the front door. From my vantage, I could only see them from the waist down. Jennifer did not disappoint. She was wearing tight shorts. Not as tight as volleyball shorts. If she had worn those I would have fainted. They were white and she showed off a little midsection. She was wearing flip flops and had painted her toenails bright pink. I wanted to see them flying like pink flags up in the air. I was already imaging what she was wearing underneath her shorts. They went to the kitchen and made small talk for a while. I snuck down the stairs partially to see and was very gratified that Jennifer was seated at the table with her back towards me. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I felt. Sally let out an uncontrollable moan of confused pleasure as her needful lusty body contradicted her unwilling lesbian mind. She closed her tearful eyes and tired to wish the sensations away but it was an impossible task. Each delicate whisper of the sultan?s silk handkerchief sent increased paroxysms of lust screaming through Sally?s clitty. She was quickly reduced to a gibbering, whimpering, mindless mass of squirming black flesh. The worst of it was that the sultan was an obvious expert in orchestrating the women in his control. He seemed to know exactly when to stop the caresses of silk and prevent completion of Sally?s lust whilst still tantalising her with occasional light trace of the delicate fabric over her engorged nipples. Sally felt her juices starting to emerge but the sultan had anticipated that. He motioned to the sissies who promptly inserted an absorbent tampon into Sally?s sex then sat back to watch. The hollow tampon was obviously loaded.
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