Linda herself closed her eyes and felt herself more float away than be swept away as her own orgasm came over her like gentle waves on a shore.Linda s...arted. She found herself leaning against the back wall of the shower cubicle. One hand was cupping her breasts, allowing the thumb to rapidly flick the nipple. The other hand was buried between her legs. Two fingers parted herself and rubbed up and down in a frantic massage. She ground the heel of her palm against the top of the slit. She pinched. “Er, not you, dear; you come with me this way.” Sandra led the way to a small flight of stairs going down. “We are going into the cellar too, my dear, but to a different part. You have to prepare.” What exactly Helen had to prepare for wasn’t plain, and Sandra was decidedly uncommunicative on the matter. They ended up in a small room with no furniture. “Strip!” commanded Sandra. “What’s going to happen?” Helen asked nervously, as she quickly got out of her skimpy clothes. “It’s very. More

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