Pat told everyone that only her parents called her Patricia. So she was Pat to Sandy, and to James, the older gentleman she became friends with. Those...two she loved to chat with everyday. They were both writers too, of course. She had made it a habit to only make friends with fellow writers. That seemed safer somehow. Finally she had about thirty-five "friends" and only a few were what she would call real friends. These she trusted. Well, really, she trusted everyone on the site. Maybe that was. The waiter came to serve the bill and he was having difficulty hiding his erection. ?When we leave, slave, I want you to give the waiter a big wink and a broad smile. I’ve given him a nice tip, but your smile will be what he remembers.? When we arrived at the club, the valet helped slave from the car and looked appreciatively at her marvelous legs. He couldn’t help stare at her well proportioned tits and still hard nipples either. He knew her from earlier visits, and said , ?Nice to see you. More

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