Justice Won by Kim Pritekel

Author:Kim Pritekel [Pritekel, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 4146570832
Amazon: B096HXTLV2
Publisher: Sapphire Books Publishing
Published: 2021-07-14T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

She was utterly exhausted. “Lesson Two” had consisted of Justice having to essentially recreate what they’d watched through the peephole with Macie, who called it the “missionary position.” At first it had been awkward, Justice struggling to get her hips into a good rhythm. When she’d been with Angel that one time, she was able to feel everything as it was her own sensitive place rubbing against Angel, but with the phallus, she was going in blind.

Macie had been patient with her, more than once stopping her to gently ease the phallus back inside when it flopped out. Finally, she’d gotten it together, and by the end, she’d figured out how to move so it pressed against her in just the right place as well. When, for a second time, Macie cried out in pleasurable release, she hugged Justice to her then whispered words that made Justice’s blood go cold: Now you have to go upstairs to Sally.

Sally had met her in little more than a silk dressing gown. Her hair was down and expectations were up. When Justice walked into her impressive apartment, she walked up to Justice and reached down, grabbing her by the addition tucked inside her trousers.

“Make me cum, or you may go,” she murmured a hair’s width away from Justice’s lips.

The rest of that afternoon had been spent exploring everything about sex with a woman who was intensely sensuous and sexy. Sally surprised Justice with her wicked sense of humor yet gentle touch. By that evening, Sally said Justice had taken her “every which way but Sunday,” showing Justice every position that Justice should know and master.

After several rounds, they’d been left lying naked in Sally’s massive four-poster bed, Sally nearly purring like a contented cat stretched out by the fire. “You know,” she’d said, lying on her side, her leg thrown over Justice’s thigh from where Justice lay on her back, hands tucked up under her head. “You could make some serious money with this,” Sally said, reaching down and flicking the phallus, making it bounce obscenely.

Justice had left the house, which she’d learned was called Whitney Grove, and had been driven home in Sally’s carriage. She was sent home with the phallus and instructions on what time the driver would be back to pick her up that night to take her to her first client.

She’d spent an hour with Elizabeth, an older woman who had been widowed the previous year. The irony was, during that hour, the majority of it had been Justice simply listening. She’d told her about her husband, who had drowned in the pond on their property. She talked about her sons, her grandbabies, and the fact that she felt old before her time. Before he’d died, she hadn’t had sex with her husband—or with anyone—since her youngest son was born, and that had been twenty-two years ago. All she wanted was to be heard and to be touched, to feel like a woman again.

So, Justice had taken her

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