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"I'll touch you there, Devney. Do you want my fingers on you? In you? Did you find your clit? I can see it from here, all pink and hard, just begging to be touched."

I exhaled and it came out a breathy moan. I did. I did want him to do what he said! I thrashed my head side to side, kept my eyes squeezed shut.

"I can see you're clenching down. What do you want in your pussy, baby? My fingers? My cock?"

"Oh, God," I gasped.

"Do you want Mr. Bridger to touch your pussy, Devney?" Doctor Graham asked, his voice deep. My eyes flew open. I'd forgotten he was even there. Now, knowing he was looking upon me too made me...hotter.

"Do you want me to touch you with Doctor Graham watching? Is that it?" His dark eyes were focused intently on me. My knees splayed open involuntarily. He grinned. "You do. Oh baby, you're such a good girl."

I shook my head again, this time in denial. "No, no I'm not. I'm not a good girl. I can't want this. I can't want you. I can't want--"

"Two men to see you come?"

I didn't know what he meant by come, but I was ashamed to feel even more pleasure at the idea of both men gazing upon me.

Mr. Bridger stood back up, moved down to stand next to Doctor Graham at the foot of the table. I looked at them over the rise and fall of my breasts, past my spread, uncovered legs, my exposed woman's place. I did want Mr. Bridger to touch me. There was something about him that set him apart from every other man. I wanted him do something so personal, so intimate. I wanted him to do everything he'd said.

"I'll touch you, baby."

"Yes, please," I begged. I bit my lip, stunned at what had escaped.

"I can't though. Not yet."

Confused, I took a deep breath. "Why are you taunting me?" I asked. "Why?"

"Taunting, is it?" He grinned, then became serious. "We need to be married first, baby. I won't touch you unless you're mine."

Doctor Graham turned and grabbed a jar that I recognized as the ointment. He unscrewed the lid and handed it to me. "Here, put some more on your pussy. It will help with the swelling. Since you haven't accepted Mr. Bridger, we'll put the harness back on once you're done."

I took the jar, dipped my fingers in so they were coated in the thick, slippery substance. I reached down between my legs and rubbed it in. It was cool against my inflamed flesh and I gasped. I flicked a glance up at the men, who were both intently watching my fingers.

I cried out and arched my back.

"See, baby, you've already starting to respond to me. You like when I watch you touch your pussy. But I can't make you come until you're mine."

"Is this true, Devney? Is your body responding to Mr. Bridger because you need to belong to him?"

The two men were overwhelming me. I wanted Mr. Bridger to touch me, even admitted to such, and yet he’d refused. Must I marry him for him to do so? He was being respectful of me, treating my maidenhead, my body as something he cherished, unlike a woman who worked at Rose's brothel. Why did that bother me so? I just wanted him to touch me, to make this ache go away in that place on my body that pulsed and throbbed.

I could still feel my inner walls clenching. I wanted Mr. Bridger to touch me. No, I needed him to do so.

"Yes," I breathed. I moved my fingers up and down, touching every place that felt good. But it wasn't enough.

"Marry me now, baby and I'll make it all better. Always."

"Yes!" I cried out as I found a particularly sensitive spot. I wanted to close my eyes, to lose myself in the sensations my fingers were eliciting, but Mr. Bridger's gaze held me captive.

"I'll get Reverend Abernathy." Doctor Graham turned and left.

CHAPTER THREE

Sam

I couldn't leave Devney lying on the table with her knees flared open and her pussy on display when the minister arrived, no matter how much I was enjoying the sight. I yanked at the fabric of her dress and pushed it down over her bent legs.

"Easy, baby," I soothed. "I'll take care of you. I promise, but the reverend is coming so let's get you up."

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