When we returned to Amaya’s house, the romance continued. The chink stowed away her worthless Papillon and we resumed making out, this time on her ...ed. Just moments into the tongue tangling session though, she again ceased the operation, complaining about her doused pants. “There goes another pair of jeans!” Amaya stated, pulling away from me. “I have the perfect solution to that,” I advised. “Here, let me help you.” I latched onto Amaya’s pants and gave them a good. I wanted to see Claire in real agony. I untied her wrists, and I placed a chair in front of the cross so Claire could stand on it, and then I carefully wrapped her arms above and behind the wooden crossbar, so that she would have to support her weight on her back and shoulders. This position also thrust her breasts out invitingly. I tied her ankles to the perpendicular member of the cross, so she could shift some of the weight to her legs. But this was still a much more agonizing and. More

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