”“Right, Mr. Quentin . . .”The ‘maid’ opened the drawer of the antique writing desk and took the two whippy rods lying there.“Give one to ...rs. Osman, please. The other one is for you to use.”Rosalie’s face was wreathed in a sudden smile.“You really mean . . .” she began.“I do,” said Quentin, smiling in return. Rosalie’s eagerness to use the rod somehow pleased him.“Thank you . . . thank you ever so much, Mr. Osman . . .” Rosalie sounded rather like a grateful schoolgirl who had just been given. The woman put the tape measure to one side. “Now for the procedure,” she said, grabbing my cock, latex fingers gripping me hard as she began the treatment.I didn’t want to cum already; I’d only just arrived. I was supposed to play along, but could I at least try to alter the course of events? “This seems a very unorthodox procedure, Nurse Craddock,” I said.Mrs Craddock’s hand kept on moving. “Don’t worry, Darren. I know what I’m doing. I’m a professional.”The way she said it, coupled to the way. More

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