‘Oh, sir,’ she stopped for a moment, knowing I wouldn’t mind as long as it was sexy. ‘I wanted to ask, I was wondering today, since you call m... slut, sometimes bitch, cocksucker, airhead, all these things… why don’t you call me your whore?’ I took her chin in one hand, stroking myself lightly with the other. She winced for a moment, not knowing if I would slap her, then looked up attentively for my reply. I told her that I didn’t like whores, because they only really care about money, and. I think there was an audible collective gasp from her crowd of admirers, followed by stunned silence as she worked her palms over, under and in between her firm, lovely breasts, covering all the exposed skin with a glistening coat of oil. Or maybe it was just my imagination.She caught me looking, smiled, and then she sank back into the chair, raising her feet up off the ground and stretching out her legs."Stare much?" she asked me as she wiped her hands on a towel."You sure have grown up,. More

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