He was a journalist and traveled what seemed like a lot to her. “I caught a job covering a new car launch they were doing over there. The guy wh...o was scheduled to go got sick, so I guess I got lucky.” “It sounds wonderful. I’ve always wanted to visit there.” Jen paused to reposition his left hand and add a note to the chord he was playing. “You need to tell me all about it. How’d you like to have a coffee before you go? I’ll open the chocolate and we can share them. That seems. But if they want it – and are willing to pay for it – would you be willing to do more?”I wasn’t really surprised. I thought about this for a bit. I had obviously had sex with men for my own enjoyment, and had been having simulated sex – lap dances – with men for about three months now. So far, my attitude had been that I was being paid to do things I liked, so I was fine with that.This was something – different.I should explain that prostitution is viewed differently in Europe than in America. His broad hands with their fingers laced over her back applied pressure. She jumped downwards, and suddenly her pussy had fit like a glove many sizes too small over the knob of his throbbing cock.Now her struggles intensified so heavily that he was close to an immediate orgasm. When he'd fucked Daisy Cow even his huge cock was lost in her cavelike cunt; now the hen's tiny bird's fuckhole was so tight about him as to drive him to almost instantaneous ecstasy.He rolled over on his side, facing. He didn't last too long, but brought you to the edge of a third orgasm. You remember the one after that wore too much cologne, too strong a musk, and brought you to the strongest orgasm yet with his fingers, before he entered you. You don't remember any other details. You don't know how many men you served, only that they enjoyed you, that you came with many of them and that you enjoyed serving each of them. Very much.You don't remember me untying you, but you do remember me holding you. .