He'd visited a lot of parlours and enjoyed the services of a lot of different girls, but he'd never encountered anyone like this.Plus he'd already pai...d."Not me," he said. "You can drop the dominatrix crap. I'm not one of those sad pervs who gets his jollies from being beaten up. I want a massage and the usual extras. So how about you get rid of the Princess Xena-wear so I can get a good look at those titties, luv."A little glint of anger flashed in her green eyes."You're very cocky for someone. You are powerless to do anything, so just enjoy.” Joan waited, wondering what Paul would do to her first. Suddenly she jerked hard against the restraints. Something had touched her left nipple. It had not hurt; it just surprised her. There! It happened again. A brush, maybe a makeup brush. Paul was stroking her nipple with it, then spinning it, anything to make the nipple harden. Then the brush went to work on the other nipple. Once both nipples here hard, Paul lowered his head near one and. With that I'm off after her, and with a short burst of speed (out of breath, hah!) I catch up to her just as she dashes up the stairs. I grab her around the stomach from behind and haul her squealing and struggling figure back. I can't hold her for long, and somehow we both end up on the floor, laughing and rolling around grabbing at each other, tickling, touching, and generally horsing around.After a couple of minutes we both lay still and grin at each other. I suddenly jump up, grab her. They are so hard to find. I hate it when girls idealize me as ‘oh… you are 6-foot tall blonde girl with big boobs, you must get any guy you want!’ But it’s not true. Only the assholes. The nice ones are too intimidated. Or are too short. Damn these Scandinavian genes! It is 3am and I can’t sleep. Damn him for that too. I need to work tomorrow. I just should stop thinking about this, he isn’t worth it. I have to be up in 3 hours. I hate my job. I should just get out of San Francisco. It is not.