Sunday services Often the mama-san is lax, and if I hit the shift change I can sleep with my
whore for several hours while paying for two, which will be OK with her; she'll be tired from Saturday night.
I take my Viagra an hour before, call up to make sure they turn the hot water on for the table shower, and eat a banana just before going in, for the potassium and so my stomach won't growl. The
Sunday Mail in the plastic bag from Kim's Newsstand will seem to re-assure her—whoever she ends up being.
A nameless Korean wearing white lace pleased me by taking my arm and marching me down to the baths as if down the aisle.
How she sluiced round first one then two fingers as I pulled her forward to my mouth with my right hand whose fingers were up her pressing her motte, as I slurped her right nipple erect, her left nipple erect, then back—
"So the other one doesn't get jealous," as Annie would say. My left hand resting gently spread wide over her shoulder blades, my right pinning her in place by her cunt, my mouth, lips, tongue teasing her.
She went to sleep with my arms wrapped around her, snoring tinily.
{280}
>> posted by Anonymous
• 11/12/2003 09:43:00 AM
•
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