Roger did the same to himself. It was a high-pitched, rather squeaky laugh. They were ten or twelve feet in the air. A Wentworth’s Custom Perfume was magically adaptive. He could feel his own hands lightly rubbing her breasts and between her legs. Finally they were standing naked on the gravel. “I wonder what’s down there,” Marcie said and dove toward the lower floors. Roger reached for Marcie and pulled her close to himself. “Jenny and I never tried anything like this.” He huffed and added, “It’s been a long time since she made me feel alive. So, Roger decided that they would use the grounds of the now-abandoned Wentworth mansion for their special rendezvous. my butterfly.”
She opened her mouth and he sprayed a small amount of the perfume onto her tongue. Flowerhaven was the Wentworth family home. The house belonged to his wife, Julia. or a honey bee…
