Indian Hotel

With a guy like Dan, I can be a little more submissive. With men in general, unless I'm getting paid, no big cocks, no oral, no anal, no brutality, no pain, no dress up, pretty much nothing other than clothes off, fuck, clothes on." "What's special about Dan?" "He's respectful. No macho posturing. He's kind of...", the shy smile comes back, "...fatherly." I chuckle. "I won't tell him that you said that." Dan probably assumed that a gift would be coming tonight, but he didn't know it would be personally delivered by me. "You've been through a lot today, Cate, let's start with a neck and shoulder rub for you." I know what she's doing. The sensual rubbing of her coarse flame orange pubic hair on my ass just seems to happen as she rubs the strain out of my muscles. I look over at Dan watching us, an obvious bulge growing in his slacks. He's still wearing his dress shirt, but he's ditched the tie for the evening. "You're way overdressed Dan, you won't be invited in wearing all that.". I was tall for a girl. "Course not." He lifted my top over my head. He bit my nipple through my tank top. My lip quivered. "Do you ever wear a bra?" He pulled the fabric in his teeth. "Please," I gulped. "I've got you begging. That's a good sign." He stripped me to my underpants before he even went for his shirt. He leaned in and cupped my face. My eyes strayed to his chest. A player's chest. "I see diamonds and hexagons." Then, "I'm missing my show." "It's alright, later," he assured me. He leaned over me. "I need to eat my yoghurt," I said. "I always eat my yoghurt at 10." "I'll give you something to eat." He bit me, so hard. I squealed. "I thought you were vanilla. All the girls..." "I'm just trying to find the perfect play mate for my games." "So you're..." "You can say it." "A sadist?" He laughed. "Real or fake?" I asked. I only liked the real kind, even though that was a contradiction. "How much proof do you want?" Think carefully about it. He finger fucked me. He.
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