Thirty-Three

George

Camilla's eyes widened in horror as she stared at the goo on my semi-hard dick. Her mouth was agape and her words of apology froze on her lips like someone who'd forgotten to breathe.

I clenched my jaw and bit my lip to suppress a swear word. Disgust and nausea made me feel sick. I scrunched up my nose and tried to step back, but the unpleasantness was stuck to me, making escape impossible.

She fucking puked on my cock, and now I felt like yanking the thing off. With a shudder, I refused to look at the offensive sight.

"I... I'll get a towel," Camilla stuttered, quickly scrambling to her feet and hurrying towards the bathroom.

“Hurry. Fuck.”

My voice was hoarse with suppressed rage. She nodded without hesitation and returned, holding a towel. Her hands were shaky, and she dropped it in front of my crotch.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so, so sorry,” Camilla's apology tumbled out as she cleaned up the mess. "I swear, it was an accident. I didn't mean to do it.”

She looked so embarrassed