‘Come in Mr Petersen. Like I said, whatever you have to tell me about George, you can say in front of Susan. I doubt either of us will be shocked by...what you’re clearly dying to tell us about. Anyway, who are you to George’? She demanded as Kristoff shrugged and walked past the threshold. Kris let the door swing shut behind him before speaking. ‘My name is Kristoff Petersen, Mrs Hounslow. Your husband contracted the services of a colleague of mine in Las Vegas last week. Specifically. A. Moments later, he tugged the dress up, and partially unlaced, it slid off easily. I was before him now, in just the leather boots, witchy fishnet stockings held up by only a lace garter, scandalously sheer panties and the briefest of corsets. ‘Very very nice’, he murmured, his mouth kissing the cleavage the corset had made all too apparent. He was still wearing his cloak, sitting astride me, and I tugged at the strings, it fell away on the bed, and with a smile he tugged his shirt up and off.. More

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