Her delicate lace thong hangs desolately fromone trembling leg, rough hands clawing, mauling her breasts, both uncoverednow. One small hand, nails br...ken, bleeding, pawing at the steamed upplexiglass , struggling to maintain her balance while the other hand clutchesthe phone to her ear in sick obedience. The booth is filled with their panting, grunting, her thighs slick, coatedwith cum from the others. Her lipstick smeared, mascara dark under hereyes, her cheeks, chin, chest smeared in. She wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge and poured herself a cold glass of chardonnay from the opened bottle that was covered beads of condensation over the green glass, stored in the door shelf. The remote to the sound system was on the granite kitchen worktop, handily placed so that she could hit the ‘on’ button and have her music choices waft from the speakers set into the ceilings of every room.She returned to the living room undoing the buttons of her blouse one handed.. More

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