The Sex Tourist

“You still like to masturbate Fat Man?” “Yes, of course.” ”That is what you like.” She smiled while she said it. I regarded her words as invitation, and started to massage my penis. “That is alright Fat Man,” she softly let me know. “I will do whatever you’d like me to do.” I loved what she said, but didn’t want to let her know this. So I reminded her again, regarding my question. “How did you get the handcuffs?” “I met him in a discotheque.

We danced and had fun. Then he asked me to come to his room. He was willing to pay my price, so we went to his hotel.” I masturbated, as I felt so excited about her story. Vanta was just standing there, and looked at me. Then she broke the silence. “Once we were in his room, he showed me the hand cuffs. I was scared, and didn’t want to use them. But he insisted. I demanded double payment, and thought that might hinder him. But he accepted. After the shower, he boned me.”

I was so hot, and jerked my meat. ”Did he handcuff your arms behind your back like I did?” I asked her. “No, my arms were in front of me.” “Come here,” I ordered her again. She followed, and walked toward me and the bed. I opened her short, and pushed it down. I played with her underwear, to stimulate myself, while I masturbated. I let my middle finger glide inside her, and felt that she was wet. I enjoyed her for a while, and asked her to return to where she stood before, and continue with her story.

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