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A genuine fact about me: my hearing is unusually acute, and has remained so into my thirties, when most men start losing the ability to hear higher frequencies. I can hear a phone chime with a new text two floors away; I can pick you out of a crowd by the sound of your keyring when you put your hand in your purse.

That’s why I gave you this assignment. Yes, you spent long enough pleading with me for an orgasm that I decided to grant you one, on the condition that you get yourself off between seven and seven-fifteen this evening. Yes, that is in fact when my guests will be arriving for dinner. Yes, the four of us will be right in the next room.

I wouldn’t want your needy pussy to disturb anyone while we have company, and I think you know what will happen to you later if any of them notices or casts a suspicious glance at the bedroom door. You know the rules now. This is the only chance to come you’ll get this week, and possibly this month. But rest assured, girl, when I say not to make a single sound,

I

fucking

mean it.

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