Fogg’s bedchamber, both beating the same second at the same instant. ‘That’s good, that’ll do,’ said Passepartout to himself. He suddenly o...bserved, hung over the clock, a card which, upon inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning, exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club—all the details of service, the tea and toast at. I could hear him opening and close them."Don't move. Daddy's going to get rid of all that clothing for you."I was careful not to move. The paddle was balanced carefully on my back and any movement caused it teeter. Paul cut through my panties and let them fall to the floor; my naked ass and pussy vulnerable to him. Next he cut through my t-shirt and pulled it out from under me. This caused the paddle to fall to the ground. It clanged against the bench as it did so. My breast were now pressed. . I accepted." I see." The man neither frowned nor smiled, but just sat there looking at me with his big brown eyes."What do you think?" I asked him."I wish you wouldn't." Richard looked down, avoiding me. "But if that's what you want..." You're not going to fight for me?" I asked him."Do you want me to?" he asked. "What do you want me to say?" Never mind." I frowned and we were quiet for a few minutes, until the waiter came and took our order and our menus away."I love you, Amber," Richard. " She took her hand away and grabbed both my arms. "Go slow now," she sighed as I entered her, my hands holding her large, firm buttocks. Things parted, lubricants appeared, blood roared, and we merged. I strained and rammed into her slowly and deeply, stretching her to accommodate my long bone.After a while I became aware of the noises the bed was making. It creaked and groaned and then popped in a regular manner and as our tempo of thrust and recoil accelerated, the noise became something.