She absolutely did not want to get stuck doing actual work. She wasn't trading her time as a maid for food and a bed. She was trying to trade her mout..., pussy, and asshole for food, a bed, and dick.Sarah kept thinking about her problem while she was cleaning the toilet, and noticed something at the bottom of the basket of magazines next to the shower. It looked like... an old, forgotten dildo? Sarah picked it up and smelled it. It smelled faintly of very, very old pussy juice. Must have. “Damn, I needed that,” she moaned.“Well, it’s done. You just need to sort your husband,” I chuckled as I put my clothing back on.“Yes, then vanish from the scene and pretend I don’t know anything about this.”“Weird, but whatever works for you.”“He’s the one being nice to me, trying to keep it from me. I’m not too bothered as it needs to be done and I needed a good fuck anyway,” she giggled. The attendants came in with her husband’s bed shrouded in a privacy screen.I simply smiled and walked. More

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