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Strange but I suppose they must be very security concious. We enter a very nice living room and as I move towards the settee I look at a beautiful modern sculpture in metal on the coffee table. Quite sizeable I stop and look more closely at the curves and shapes entwined in its design. Is that a woman I can make out I think and is that a man below her. I can not be sure but I keep looking staring for a bit too long. The man pulls me out of my thoughts, “It is an intoxicatign piece. Please be. She was wearing only a burgundy bra, matching thong, stilettos and a smile. As she made her way down the runway, her arm outstretched reaching for the pole which was positioned squarely in the middle, she made a slow turn. As she came full circle she stopped in front of us, her back against the hard metal, arms stretched toward the ceiling, she met my eyes and gradually lowered herself. Spreading her legs slightly, she revealed only a small glimpse of what lay beneath; she rose and slowly. I moved behind her and raised the back of her shirt up. The scratches were scabbed over, but I didn't think I saw any sign of infection or anything. I wasn't a doctor, so I just had to judge how they looked right then as opposed to how they looked the day before."I think you're doing okay," I told her, lowering her shirt back down. I moved back around and sat across from her."Thank you for saving me," she softly said. "My mother always told me not to go swimming in that lake. Now I know why.". She didn’t even get to taste it. “Thanks for everything cum dumpster. Max sure found a good on-call booty slut in you.” He strolled out of the closet. This process continued for several hours, with house warming attendees of various ages entering the closet to throat fuck Nikita, cum down her throat and leave. Finally Nikita heard the music upstairs stop, and the banal farewells followed by the opening and closing of the door that implied everyone was leaving and the party was over. After what.
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