The early morning tea in the study tasted better today. Even the pictures, though they held my gaze, seemed to be more alive, the colours more vibrant, the expressions more loving. Today was the final lesson, the test of my skill, the test of my girl's willingness to serve.Once again '7' knelt before me, her body taut, yet supple and willing, her posture perfect as she displayed her charms without shame or embarrassment. Simply kneeling before me aroused her, I had won her trust and her utter. “I want you to do two things,” I said quietly. “The first is talk to Jennifer about her experience with a girl named Jocelyn she met at Stanford, and the second is to talk to Doctor Mercer.”“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”“Was that EVER a question?” I teased.“You know what I mean,” she said softly.“And I meant what I just said. We’re both crazy and have been since before we met, but neither of us is clinically mentally ill. Just do what I ask, please.”“Who was Jocelyn?”“Ask Jen,” I replied.. They still looked the same as when we dated; tanned, smooth, and very sensual. I wondered if they still led to the thin landing strip she always kept between her legs when we were together.There was no use dragging it out. She had a good reason for asking and I did not need to lead her on with small talk. It would only make matters worse. So, I paused for a minute, found the nerve that opened my mouth, and said, “Miranda, I still love you. I want you back.”Miranda just sat there with her legs. She looks up at me and closes her eyes for a second as I am sliding out of her and she looks over at the girls. They are sitting there watching this very closely and rubbing their own clits as Becky looks back at me and motions me with her eyes to take a look. I slowly look over and see them both sitting there with their legs spread watching us very closely and I look back at Becky and smile. She nods at me and I grab the bottle, and as I slide out this time I put some on the head of my penis.
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