"Hello, Kimberly here, how may I help you?" She had a feeling it was her husband, and thought she would play a game with him. It wasn't, but a game wa... about to begin, nonetheless, and getting Kimberly properly fucked was the object. "Hi Kimberly, this is number seven, from this afternoon? Number eight and I fucked your ass and cunt at the same time?" Kimberly's nipples instantly hardened and she pressed her upper thighs tight, rubbing her pussy lips together. "Yes, I remember you," she. I say I thought because I really couldn’t see him to well, ya know? Not his face anyways. He was wearing a pinstripe, like somethin’ outta the ’20s. He wore a fedora hat that covered his face in a shadow that no matter how hard ya stared, ya never could see past it. I remember thinking to myself, what the hell is he smilin’ ’bout? He must have some sorta protection. I looked around. Nuthin’. Looked up and down the street. Nuthin’. Then I looked back at him thinkin’, damn, this chiphead is. There was what looked like a wooden stage opposite with all sorts of equipment on it that she couldn't identify. As the girls were led to the foot of the bed Brooklyn could see sir laying in the middle of the bed with the blond girl lying next to him and the purple haired girl laid on the edge of the bed smoking a cigarette. As they got closer there was something odd about the blond. She was lying at an odd angle and her dress was ripped and lifted. She heard Miss speak."The toys you asked for. The condo sales had been steady and the double-dip commissions had been fat. Two of the contracts that I had casually consulted on turned out to be multi-million dollar deals. Since I'd asked for a percentage, the checks were healthy. One was healthy enough to pay for my planned week in Vegas.Which, I took a moment to update. Three more show tickets, three more flights and one more room.A second event caught my attention. At the same hotel, the day after the awards, there was an adult industry.
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