He never saw me admiring him-his eyes were focused on what he was doing. He entered me the same way as he did before: slow and easy with a persistence... I can't really describe it but he was fucking me again with those smooth strokes and now I can see my intruder-lover up close. I'm still a little scared but now I'm bolder as I touch his chest. When I did that he got a look in his eye which was nothing but lustful and bent down (never losing his masterful stroke) and sucked my hard right nipple. He lookedat Esme. "Where are you from?"She smiled. "England. Crewe, England." What's someone from Crewe, England doing in this shithole, no offense,Doug," he said to the bartender, who waved his arms around as if tosay, 'this palace?'"My name is Esme Entwistle. I'm a reporter with the New YorkReporter," she said.The two men glared at her. The white one spoke, "Why are you here?" I'm doing a story. About Donald Trump." The bartender and the mengroaned. She stammered, "He said he was the. More

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