Thinking only of her health and comfort, I invited her into my drooping tent.Her name was Beansprout Lowenstern (a likely alias since what parents wou...d name their daughter Lowenstern?) She quickly leaned in and began sucking on my neck like the lesbian daughter Dracula never mentions in public. "Oh, Beanie," I whimpered, the worst pillow talk ever. As her dainty hand squeezed my bra-less bosom boldly, she praised my alliteration before twisting my nipples as if looking for Zeppelin on the. You tell me to bend over and place my hands on the two wooden bench seats that flank the sidewalls inside the booth. There are eyebolts to which you lock my cuffed wrists. Behind me, you then help lift my legs so that I am on all fours and straddling the narrow width of the booth. After you lock my ankles in place, I realize my face is perilously close to the peephole.The sound of your hand slapping my ass reverberates loudly in the booth and, no doubt, can be heard outside as well. You slap me. More

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