The dance of the seven veils took on new meaning when Marisol Hari used it to catapult her presence into the den of scheming spies and assassins swirl...ing about in a backdrop of black market deals and international arms trafficking. Her luscious hips were a perpetual motion machine that distracted eyes and brains while she plotted to find chinks in every player's defenses.The dancing girl who took her under her wing took great care in schooling Marisol in the ways of manipulating men to give up. "At your service." I said, returning the smile."I ask people to take their shoes off here", she said, indicating a chair in the hall, and moving into her living room.I sat to pull off my shoes. "You're not afraid people will run away, are you?"Lucy giggled. "Well that's not a reaction I've seen yet, but I suppose there's always a first time. No, I just don't like to vacuum the carpet, and I find I have to do less of it if people take off their shoes here. It also makes the feet happy, don't you. “Was that good?” she whispered, “I've never managed deep throat before.”“It was fucking great.” I whispered back.I pushed her away just enough to get my hands on her breasts, squeezing gently and fingering her nipples. She moaned quietly, deep in her throat. My hands roamed over her body, tracing lightly the edges of her ears and the line of her jaw. With each touch she would gasp or moan or groan. Her hips thrust against my groin, demanding. I moved between her legs and pushed into her . Maybe it was my curious mind, but I could not keep thinking of that day, and I frequently daydreamt of bringing myself to an orgasm just by the vibrations of the chair. I tried several times, and I did feel something, but never enough to get me over the pleasure cliff. A few weeks ago I was in Southern California, enjoying a pedicure by a beautiful young Asian girl. She was wearing a very revealing short white dress, partly exposing her cute breasts from above and her sweet g-string crotch from.