The Christmas Exhibition Read Online Free Page A

thought. “The workers?”
                  She seized my cock at the base and brought her mouth forward. “The labourers.” Jill captured my head in her lips, pulling it into her mouth and towards the back of her throat. She gagged suddenly and let go of it. “Shit, that feels so good, baby.”
                  “Tell me more.” My cock stood harder in her hand.
                  Jill bit her thumbnail. “I think you like the thought of me straying, Matty baby.”
                  “Don't call me Matty, Jill.”
                  She chuckled. “Okay, baby.” She strengthened her grasp on my cock. “You like that?”
                  I nodded.
                  “Tell me.”
                  “I like it, Jill.”
                  She sighed. “Maybe you don't...” She released my cock.
                  “No,” I shouted, grasping her wrist and dragging her hand back to my throbbing erection. “Don't you dare. Now, tell me what you fucking did behind my back or I'll beat the shit out of you with that belt regardless.”
                  Jill's eyes strayed from my eyes to my mouth to my torso and todger. “Promises... Promises.”
                  I ventured forward and seized her blonde hair in my hand, dragging her towards me. “I mean it, Jill. I may have fantasised about tying you up and beating your ass red, black and blue for fun, but if you don't tell me what the fuck you've done behind my back tonight I will beat the shit out of your hide for real.”
                  Jill bit her lip coyly.
                  I watched her.
                  The bitch was stifling laughter.
                  “Trust me, sweetheart, you won't be able to sit down for a week.”
                  Jill slipped her free hand into the front of her white linen panties. “Fuck, Matt, I'm soaking... At the thought of it.”
                  “What?”
                  “I...” She touched her pussy, perhaps even slipping an unseen finger between her lips. “I want you to treat me badly. I want to be punished for being...”
                  I waited for several seconds. “For being what?”
                  She shook her head. “You'll be angry. I don't want you to be angry... Not for real.”
                  “For crying out loud, Jill, just spit it out. What did you do?”
                  Jill rolled her forefinger and thumb around the edge of my foreskin, stretching it back from the head of my cock. She stared at the slit. “I danced...” She looked up to my face. “I danced with several of the labourers.”
                  Jealousy juxtapositioned fear and wonder. Trepidation and intrigue. Anxiety and subterranean echoes of arousal. Did I really just imagine that surge of sensuality in my loins? “Drunk dancing?” I demanded slowly.
                  “We were all drunk, Matt.” She stuffed the entire length of my cock into her mouth, and sucked sensationally for several seconds.
                  “Oh, fuck... Shit, Jill.”
                  “Mmmmmm,” she gargled.
                  I had to fight my fingers into the long locks of her blonde hair, dragging her back from the base of my member. “I'm gonna explode, if you keep that up, honey!”
                  She snarled a seductive growl of desire. “I want your cock, Matt. I need it!”
                  Holy shit. Something had sparked fireworks in her. Something... Or... Some one . “Tell me more, Jill.” My own hand wrapped around my cock.
                  Jill's glance fell on my masturbation. “Oh, baby, look at the way you stroke yourself. You really do know how to pleasure yourself, don't