Maid

Carter

For the last thirty days, I’ve been trying my hardest to keep her off my mind. Trying not to look at her, to think about her, and certainly not to touch her.

And now, with her body pressed against mine, I’m reminded exactly why, my need clearly pressing into her and despite layers of clothing separating our skin, I’m already on the verge of spilling my seed, the baby-making material I knew was destined for her no matter how hard I fought it.

She’s too young, too innocent, I try and remind myself. But with her body flush against mine, there’s no logic in the world that can convince me to avoid doing what I’ve needed to do since first laying eyes on her.

Make. Her. Mine.

“What is that?” I question.

“It’s one of your statues…private parts.”

“It doesn’t look very private being held in your tiny hands, little girl.”

She swallows hard and fumbles with the bronzed cock like not only has she never felt one before but possibly not even ever seen one before…in real life or the Internet.