A car with a personalised plate, registration number TF1SHR, was in at the side. That must be Thomas Fisher’s car. ‘Time to face them,’ he thou...ht aloud as he parked his car. Alan strode into the foyer and up to the desk. ‘Mr Fisher please, I have to see him immediately.’ The receptionist looked at the register, ‘I’m sorry sir, but Mr. Fisher is not registered at the hotel.’ ‘Well he is here somewhere I have an appointment with him,’ Alan lied. ‘He could still be in the restaurant, sir.’. She would drench you, soaking you in her juices as you rocked her hips back and forth. Some of the other people nearby would come closer to watch, drawn by the quiet whimpers and mewls of the woman trapped in pleasure. Only once you had filled her with your own fluids would you bite her again, and in the darkness of the club, be free to drink her a second time, until she was a trembling mess. She would slip into a deep sleep, but not before her clenching insides had her cum dripping down your. More

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