I thought about him slapping my breasts and wondered; I think I would have run in the opposite direction if had asked me, but honestly, it made me so ...ot. Even the way he laughingly called me a whore. It didn’t come off as an insult, but almost seemed like a term of endearment. And that last orgasm was mind blowing. My ass felt stretched and full, but not sore, like other clumsy attempts from a previous friend. I thought about really not knowing this guy. Just a casual meet up. What if he. He also charged us a “couple” that way we would save money, which was very nice of him.Once we paid our entry, I was directed to a wall that was a bookshelf. With the press of a button I heard a hydraulic mechanism begin to work and one half of the entire bookshelf wall started to slide. It was just like form the movies. It was honestly impressive. It was indeed a real speakeasy.Once behind the secret wall, we were given a tour of the venue and given a set of rules. The rules must be obeyed. More

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