It looked like he had his own, private library. He also had old paintings hanging on the walls and an impressive chandelier hanging down the ceiling. ...This place reeked of power. It reminded me of the kind of study that the old Lords in Great Britain had.I noticed a framed black and white picture on his desk of a pretty woman; she seemed to be in her early twenties and looked vaguely familiar.He saw me looking at it and remarked with a sad voice, “That’s Sophie, my sister. Or better said, she. Willy was tall and was most notable for his nose, which perched on his face like that of a bird’s beak. He was quite opposite of his blusterous friend and kept himself as the more quiet company.The three of us were fairly lost in the foreign city as we parked the truck and turned down multiple streets. I kept singing, “There’s no Canada like French Canada” in my head, trying to ease the tension. To its credit, French Canada is a beautiful part of their country and I have visited several times. ‘Hmph,’ Her head remained turned toward the balcony doors. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. A smirk just barely visible at the corner of her mouth as she felt him move closer to her and his arms wrap around her again. This time pulling her back against him. ‘Don’t be like this…I want tonight to be about you, You’ve been working and running around in circles.’ His tone soft and gentle as his hands came up to gently cup and massage her breasts. A slightly huffy sigh came from her. Carla's juices dripped into her mouth as she drove her tongue deep between the taut cunt lips and slurped it upwards along her slit. She flicked it across Carla's clit, then began alternately blowing a stream of hot air upwards and sucking furiously.Her head was pulsing, throbbing in blinding sexual passion, gripped by the sensuous carnality of their forbidden act, the perversity of what she was doing, of what they were doing. What shock those who knew her would feel, could they only see. What.