International bankers, super-rich hedge funders, Lebanese ex-pats, former Egyptian army colonels. They all need skirt and they're all willing to pay w...ell for it. So long as the skirt performs.I'm certainly not one of those casino molls who stays draped on some miserable Chinese gambler's arm all night, slurping Pina Coladas and whispering sweet nothings in his ear, while he blows a small fortune at the roulette table. I like action. Hard-humping, relentless, all-night sex action. Last year,. Eventually the ruse worked and he responded as predicted, demanding my bottom be caned for foul mouthing and indecent exposure.Both myself and Hubby laughed it off with hubby slightly agreeing with him to my needing discipline, so I jumped up off my chair and hiked my skirt up and thrust my thong clad bottom into his face, 'Go on then', I ordered, 'Spank me' and bent over exposed to his hand and peering eyes, and looking at his shocked expression I reached behind and pulled my exposed cheeks. Some sets had been built and some had been put together from previous plays. In a matter of hours the production had started in earnest. Both Ken and Barbara were sent all over the theater for various items of need. Props were put into certain staging areas for readiness. The entire group became more alert.At least that's the way Barbara felt as she helped one person and then another. The tone of everyone's voice had lowered and the joking had decreased. The practicing had begun for various. Emptiness filled his mind his consciousness swirled round the edge. With an effort he pulled back and turned away.Tristan groaned. The warm presence that had become part of him had gone. He opened his eyes, there was a glowing ceiling panel above him merging into a featureless white wall. He closed his eyes, disorientated. Where was he, where was Aesia? His heart missed a beat. "Aesia?"He sat up, and his churning stomach caused him to retch. He took a shuddering breath and rested his forehead.