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I need to get a dress. Issy has breakfast, her eyes scanning for any sight of the hunky John unaware he is eating at the private club lounge. Later she checks with the concierge and books a spot on the shuttle bus to Kuta. It’s time to do some shopping and find a dress suitable to beguile and bedazzle an older sophisticated man. Issy has never actually wanted to attract a man before. As she thinks of John and the dress she ponders her choices. Issy knows she wants a dress that will truly show off her completely devilishly sexy looking curvaceous young body. She wants a dress that will ensure John’s eyes never leave her body for a second. Isabella heads to Kuta and spends hours looking at this shop and then that shop. Should she go black? Should she go white? How short should it be? She tries this one and then that one. She is undecided. Then she tries on a white halter mini dress with a deep plunging neckline with draped fabric to cover her breasts. The two sides are held together by. Ahhh. Rub rub rub. There now, I mentally told my asshole. I let it suck my fingertip in again. I got more vigorous, started fucking back and forth inside the tightness. The tight mouth fit like a hot little glove, but it was open now, curious, inviting. I smiled to myself, feeling all bleary again like I had before with Matthew. Like a drug almost.I tried again with the plug and it immediately found its target. My anus sucked the tip in. I let it sit there a few moments, let it slide out till I could feel the very tip just asking for entrance, and then I put some weight behind it. I didn’t bottom it out (!) but it was in a ways. I slid it out some, and back in. So smoothly it went. Like there was no resistance at all.I got kinda bow-legged standing there with a slightly naff scent coming up from my unlaundered leggings (or was that a fresh odor from my snatch?), working that toy in and out back there. Before I knew it I had pushed it in one time and it was in to the hilt! My hungry.
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But the tears fell anyway. The tears fell on Regan’s face, making small clean streaks down her pale face. After a few moments, he forced himself to stop his womanly ways. Lying her back down on the sad excuse for a bed pallet, he took inventory of her. Her face was dirty and bloodied on one side. It looked like old blood, but he wasn’t quite sure how old the blood was. She had bruises on her arms and he assumed she would have them on her legs as well. Anger fresh, consuming and scalding bubbled up inside him. He smiled grimly. Anger he knew all to well. Anger he could deal with. Anger at the MacPhearsons’ and his bastard cousin Alex. They had been beating her. As far as he could tell, they were trying to beat her into submission, not to death, or she would already be dead. He stood and looked down at her for a moment. He heart sang that she was alive, and that he had found her. His Rose, or Regan, what did that matter, she was alive! Anger burned a hole deep in his gut. He ground.

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