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... embles.

Somewhere to my left, she laughs softly — low, wicked, absolutely entertained by my state. I try to glare at her, but blindfolded and tied like this? Not much impact.

Then suddenly — my legs are spread. Wide. Firm hands grip behind my knees, pressing me open with no shame.

"For all your complaining," her voice purrs, closer now, "you’re awfully eager, sweetheart."

Her fingers glide along sensitive skin. A teasing stroke. Then one finger slides in. Then two ...

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