Her head was wedged against the back of the chair and her chin was pushed into her chest as she looked between her now naked breasts to see the big white plastic prick vibrating between her legs. Web saw her wide-spread cuntal lips as she ran her thumb over her clitoris and as the mechanical cock quivered its way deeper into her wildly pulsing pussy. Her young body was wantonly shuddering with pleasure as the vibration tantalized and enflamed her sense.

"You have lovely breasts, my dear," he said, leaning over the back of the chair and cupping their fleshy fullness in his manicured hands.

Nichole opened her smoky eyes halfway and saw his fingers caressing her already distended nipples. "Thank you," she murmured thickly. With her hands, she began rapidly pumping the vibrator in and out of her moistly clasping pussy, the lewd parody of fucking increasing the feeling of pleasure. She closed her eyes, as his pinching fingers and the vibrator aroused her to where she wanted to scream her lust out. Her voluptuously round body was suddenly out of control. She had learned to give in to her lust without a reservation. Web liked that and… so did she. There was something so thrilling and enjoyable in acting lewd, acting like a slut, not caring what people might think. Then, too, Web had taught her the naughty and thrilling delights of being an exhibitionist. He had forced her to be an exhibitionist and know the thrill that so intensified the orgasm.

He looked down at her writhing obscenely in the chair. "Too bad I don't have someone here to bite and suck on your breasts, Nichole."

In answer, Nichole let her head thrash from side to side and a low moan of frustration trembled from her lips as she increased the tempo of her hips pumping up against the vibrator.

Web smiled down at her, taking his hands away. He had set her up. He had suggested a pleasure, and she had groaned like a Pavlovian dog at the idea. With no more than a suggestion on his part, he would watch her debase herself further.