James tore at my shirt after pulling my jacket off, his hands eager to get at my skin, tender though it was over the only recently healed lacerations ... had suffered. His hands, smooth in parts and rough in others, did not caress my skin. They pushed at my clothes, wanting to get them as far away from me as possible. The door felt cold against my back as my bra was thrown aside and my breasts mauled hungrily by his hands. “I need you. Now.” He grunted, not giving me chance to reply in anything. It was fun!Megan was probably looking for the Daddy who rejectedher. That was what the manager, Norm Jordan, saidwhen he "interviewed" Megan for a "position" in the"Daddy" room. Mr. Jordan alone was worth theexperience. He was a skilled and giving lover andassured Megan that the Daddies she would meet at thehotel would be cut from the same cloth as he was orwould no longer be welcome.Mr. Jordan was right. Two or three nights a week, thelittle angel would report at 3 p.m. for a thoroughsalon. More

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