Ironic that Alexa chose that song. He could see where it might lead them. But Carrie had picked up her small case and opened the door, “I’ll get t...e rest of my things later. Goodbye, Paul.”Sarstedt hit the line in which he mentioned his lady dancing like Zizi Jeanmaire. A real oldie, that one.“Yes, that was just like you,” Paul put in quickly. “Your dancing, so lithe, so lissom.”Halfway out of the door she looked back, half smiled and said, “You were hopeless. One dance a night, with two left. Consciously she was pressing against the big athlete, wanting to feel his belly rubbing against her ass as he fucked her. Her mind was whirling around, sinking into a dim haze of semi-consciousness as she felt that cock fucking her cunt into an inferno.The fat cockhead fucked back and forth inside her heated fuckhole. Behind her she could feel those fat, leathery balls bouncing off her asscheeks, slapping at times against her clit, making it tingle even more. Heated rushes of air blew against. She, Jennifer Walstow, had a promised long life of ease, luxurious comfort, security and wealth beyond the dreams of avarice to the average person. A little whipping now and then was a paltry price to pay for her advantaged position. The closet socialist in Jennifer even quite agreed with it. Perhaps the rich should be beaten daily if only to remind them of the fortune of their lives of privilege. After half an hour she had laid her pen down with a sigh and used a ribbon to tie up her hair. If. For six hours they fucked, rested, and fucked me again until the sun could be see peeking up over the desert. I was then allowed to go to my own suite to shower and take a well-deserved nap.The next evening was almost a carbon copy of the last, with the exception of different men, and tonight I was dressed as a nurse. This was repeated nightly, me dressed as ordered, and twelve guys fucking my brains out.Finally on Saturday evening, the day before the big game, things changed a bit. Tonight.