I couldn't help but remain at full attention with the knowledge of what she saw. It had been three days since the little episode in the checkout line....All I could think about was the statement she left me with, the statement about measuring. My hard-on gained even more strength as a picture formed in my mind of Sharon with a tape measure."Where are my manners?" It took her about a full minute to awake from her trance. "Come on in! You must be here to see your mistress."I nodded my head and. She could barely stand the mixture of anxiety and anticipation as the elevator rushed her to the twentieth floor. It had been exactly a week since her last visit to the grand hotel in Boston’s Back Bay. She arrived that evening as a naïve coed and left as an expensive call girl. Jennifer had experienced a thorough fucking by an epically endowed male counterpart, far beyond anything in her experience, for the viewing pleasure of a wealthy couple. She had been expecting to meet a middle aged. She closed her eyes as her nipples reacted instantly to his touch. He plucked at them with his fingertips, letting them slide against the material as they fell from his grasp. He pulled the front of her dress down, lifting each of her voluptuous breasts from her dress, stretching the already low neckline below them, using it to hold them up and together.He took hold of her nipples again, harder this time. He used them to lift her breasts away from her body, twisting them slightly for more. Doubt still lingers in her mind, fear keeping her toes curling, fingers tapping. She begins to look at him in detail, her eyes meet his.An almost physical shock explodes through her body as their eyes meet, she quickly looks somewhere, anywhere else.Her heart races, pulse loud in her ears, the rushing noise of her blood almost drowns out any other sensation. She retreats within herself, shutting her eyes tightly, refusing to look again, fearing her own reaction. She begins to tremble, hearing.