Salt. Had it said cayenne pepper? Ah, and the knife. She chose a small paring knife from the block. She scooped her materials into a small glass bowl and snuck past Steven's office on the way back upstairs. She could hear him talking on the phone about the latest work crisis. Even the sound of his low muffled voice was turning her on. She wanted so desperately to hear the rumble in the back of his throat as she rode him, wanted to hear him groan with pleasure as he worked himself inside her. She gripped the handrail at the bottom of the staircase to steady herself, and finally went back upstairs to the master bedroom.Rebecca shut off the lights in the room except for a single lamp in the corner to see by. Pulling her laptop to the foot of the bed, She sat down on the floor, legs crossed in front of her. The website pulled up on the screen, she began the careful setup for the ritual. She placed one candle directly in front of her, with the other two behind her, flanking her on either. Bridget stood a little too the side, a stop watch she had procured from god knows where in her hand, the other arm once again wrapped around Elaine and her fingers busy underneath the lean woman’s bikini panties. Mrs. Somerset’s free hand caressed Erin’s head, then suddenly her fingers buried themselves in her short hair. “Ready?” Bridget asked, her voice breathless with impatience. Mrs. Somerset nodded, flexing her fingers. “Go!” The next moment was a blur. Before I could even properly brace myself for the first touch of the leather flap, Mrs. Somerset had swung it upward while pushing Erin’s head between her legs. A sharp, hot pain shot through the inside of my thigh, a hand’s width above my knee, driving all breath from my lungs. At the same time, Erin’s mouth started to feast on the older woman’s pussy, and a glazed look came over her eyes. I shrieked. Erin’s head dipped, then slowly tilted back up, giving a long, wet lick to the pussy in front of her, and the crop snapped.
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