It smelled like piss, stale beer, and sweat. I kind of nauseated me. The crotch of my panties was so wet that I was almost afraid I had peed myself. I walked to the third stool in and hopped up on it. The bartender approached. "What can I do for you?"I jumped as his deep voice penetrated the silence. "Give me a draft beer," I said shakily.He looked at me critically. "How old are you, girl?" Twenty-one," I lied."Can I see some identification." I don't have any," I said truthfully. I had left my driver's license and anything else that might identify me back at the motel."Then I'm afraid you'll have to leave. I could lose my license."I felt an arm and a hand come around my shoulder. "Now, Pete, if the lady says she's twenty-one, she's twenty-one." I looked up to see who had spoken. It was one of the black men from the table in the back.I looked back to the bartender. "Whatever you say, Tom," he said pushing a glass of beer in front of me. There was sweat running down his face and he. The circumstances of the copulation double play necessarily needed to remain unspoken because the knowledge of her transgression meant serious consequences for both her and her unborn child.Thus, the malingerer Hope daintily reclined eating sweet-meats on the stacked cushions in the harem common room while Faith and Charity were sent to entertain the emissary of the Turkish Sultan in the perfumed bedrooms reserved for only very distinguished visitors.Faith performed her sensuous and seductive dance routine for the perverted pleasure of the dangerously obese emissary and Charity sat at his feet allowing him to poke and prod all of her seductive female parts. She showed her appreciation for his attentions by kissing and licking the most sensitive parts of his rotund body.When Faith was finished the arousing dance number, she joined her sister and the emissary on the large canopied bed. The emissary, whose name was unimportant, ordered both sisters to assume "doggie" positions for his.
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