Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357
The strip club was busy, and I was already grinding on some John when I saw him walk in. My friend’s Dad. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him in here, and every time he comes in, the poor man looks so out of place. He’s the “happily married” just looking for more, kind of man. The kind who swears they “never do this,” but the one time he did, he got addicted. Addicted to my body and the way I could make him feel. Deeply addicted to the way I rinse him in our little Cash Meets.
Now, no matter how much he fights himself, he strolls into the club when he’s in town. I’ve got my hooks in his wallet, and it was time to make a withdrawal. I slid off the lap of the man I was dancing for and skipped up behind him. Placing my hands over his eyes, my tits on his back, and my lips at his ear, I whispered, “Guess who?”
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