It looked like the pursed, fat lips of an obese man forming an "O" before her.They looked like beautiful lips, the lips of a saint come to bless her w...ith a touch, a mere caress of the pale, necrotic tissues. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against the ring. The cleavage of Sybil's ass protected them, so Gwen pushed the marshmallow sides away, stretching the split wide and flat. Again she shoved her lips against them and this time felt the warm, salty, sour taste. She held her pouting. She asked how long until dinner, but I had to disentangle myself as the timer went off for the grill. She pretended to pout but went to set the table and pour the drinks.After dinner, she cleaned the dishes as I did the same for the grill. She then asked if I could take the dog for a walk as she needed to check her work email before the morning. I was happy to take the doggie out but less happy about her work email. She’d been really stressed lately and I had a bad feeling about where things. She was still too skittish to go back to her porn or her roleplay chats, but her nightly jogs continued without incident. At least, they did for about another week or so. Then, one night as she approached her house, she saw that all the outside lights were dark. They had been on when she'd left. She always turned them on as she set out. She felt her heart beating quickly in her chest, and her pussy making her panties damp. This was a trap. It was an obvious trap. She needed to be smart. She. We did, finally, get some sleep.As supper approached, I asked if she had some nicer clothes. The Vermillion Room is an upscale dining room with a spectacular view, and classic French cuisine.“Yes, I have one nice outfit with me, in case we wanted to go out one night.”“Good. Wear that, please.”~~~~When we got to the Vermillion room, I was pleased with how good she looked. She had on a tight, black, cashmere sweater that showed off her figure, including her bra-less nipples, and a short, white.