As it turned out, my preoccupation with the unaccounted for hand job, that I had just administered, made it easy to ignore my husbands futile attempts...to chat me up and by the time I had composed myself, his charming handsome friend moved in, my only thoughts were after my audacious hand-job, 'How I would love to bury his face into my crotch and make him lick me clean', killing two birds with one stone. My husband suggested we retire to a free booth that had just been vacated and to my horror,. Maybe he was a sugar daddy. I rung the doorbell. He answered and he looked better in real life than he did on the app. He said,'come in my boy.'He took me to the living room and we sat down on the couch.He said he was a very dominant and demanding fetish master. If I earn the privilege of smelling his shoes, he would reward me greatly in lots of ways. He said he knew how to get foot boys off. He could blow my mind. I just had to pay for it like subs boy have too. He patted his hand on the seat. More

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