Now it was bothering me. She had skillfully dumped this domestic problem in my lap. My two imps suddenly found themselves rudely dumped onto the floor...beside our bed. It was, however, no more rude than the timing of Sally's question, in my estimation."Kneel!"My wonderfully naked nubile wenches scampered to the foot of the bed and assumed a submissive pose, kneeling, heads bowed, hands resting on their thighs palms up. There were no sideward glances or giggling to one another. I caught a whiff. But everything was happening too quickly. ‘Oliver please,’ she pleaded, trying to push him off. ‘No!’ he insisted, his voice full of lust. ‘You knew the price Amanda. You agreed and you know you want it! You want me!’ ‘But not now, not here,’ she cried, desperate for a way out. Being fucked by a man she despised was one thing, being fucked by him on a carpet in an entrance hall where, for all she knew a servant or, worse, one of Strand’s business colleagues could come by, was something. More

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