Free Dr Casswell's Plaything by Sarah Fisher Page A

small bottle. Heinman poured a few drops into his palm, and Sarah closed her eyes, guessing what was to follow as the old man very slowly eased his finger past the tight closure of her bottom. The sensation took her breath away as her body surrendered to him.
    Again Heinman grunted and then pulled out. Smiling at Weissman he poured more oil into his palms and worked it back and forth over Sarah’s flesh. ‘Would you like to share her with me, Uri? How about it? It’s been a long, long time since we had such a lovely creature between us.’
    Weissman smiled, chuckled, and drained his glass.
    Upstairs, under the watchful eyes of Casswell and Chang, Anna Weissman rolled exhausted onto the floor between her two house servants, although before she could have time to recover, the taller of the two crouched between her legs and parted her trembling thighs. She made no attempt to resist his advances. Lifting her body up to him, the man began to lick at her sex, lapping his own seed from the depths of her quim. Under his eager ministrations Anna began to writhe, gasp and cry out as he brought her closer and closer to orgasm. The blonde was lost in the intense medley of sensations; perhaps it was the ultimate humiliation to feel such intense pleasure at the hands of the two lowly ruffians.
    Casswell smiled, beckoning Chang closer, asking him to go next door and wake Sarah. Once Anna had left he wanted her brought to him so he could enjoy her.
    Chang reappeared a few seconds later, looking concerned. ‘She’s not there, doctor,’ he announced.
    ‘Not there?’ Casswell stared at him in surprise.
    ‘Uri Weissman has her downstairs,’ Chang informed him.
    Casswell’s expression hardened. Weissman was a bully, and although Casswell had known him for years, he still did not consider him a friend or close associate.
    Meanwhile Anna Weissman, utterly exhausted, what was left of her costume torn to shreds, finally got back onto her hands and knees. She looked up at Casswell, her icy-blue eyes bright with knowledge. There was nothing left for the woman to say; she had finally experienced and understood the things that had whet her appetite and excited her curiosity for so long.
    Casswell smiled and waved her away. ‘Go back to your room, Anna,’ he ordered, and without another word the slim blonde did exactly as she was told. Casswell waited until she had left and then dismissed the house servants, immaculate again in their long robes, standing to attention either side of the double doors as if nothing had happened. All that remained to mark the events of the last hour was the rich Turkish carpet on the tiled floor.
    As soon as the two men had gone Casswell hurried from his room. From the landing where Sarah had hidden he looked down into the sitting room below.
    Sarah was crouched on the floor between the two men, her eyes closed tight. On her knees, she was straddling Uri Weissman, his cock driving in and out of her tight wet sex, while Piers Heinman was pressed hard into the tight confines of her bottom. It was a heady image.
    Sarah’s body worked back and forth between the two men. There was no escape from them, nor relief from the intensity of the sensations. Beads of perspiration clung precariously in the valley between her pert breasts. She was breathing hard. All three of them moved in fluid unison, the two men quite obviously relishing the moment.
    Sarah gasped at the feeling of fullness as Weissman and Heinman pressed home. Her body eager and hungry to reach the place of no return, dipped and twisted so her throbbing clit ground against Weissman’s root, each stroke taking her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Covering her, Heinman was snorting like a stallion sliding deeper and deeper into that dark tight place, while beneath her Weissman strained to fill her to the very brim.
    As the intense pleasure built, spiralling up through her tummy, Sarah struggled to remember that she needed to talk to Casswell about