They were spot on. I became Lynn the Trophy Milf. My 36DD-28-34 figure barely fit into it and my tan skin blended well.I then was given a ride to the ...nvestor’s hotel. Before I left Mr. Malone told me that every room in the man's suite had cameras in it. The investor knew this. He wanted his own video of us. Plus, you never could tell how well a 'behind the scenes' porno would sell. That was his personal cut for his help negotiating my payment plan. I chuckled. I knew I was getting a bad deal. And the men seemed to use them to satisfy their sexual needsmore than they used their own wives. Free women were supposed to be pure, sopresumably they didn't need any attention paid to their pussies.Now, Jasmine's hand was under her panties, and her fingers were burrowingtheir way into her hole. "Just so I can relax and go to sleep,"thought Jasmine, who then concentrated on keeping quiet.Jasmine had once witnessed Daddy force a slut onto all fours, with her eyesblindfolded, her mouth gagged,. "Things? What things?" I asked.Up close she looked even better, her large unsupported breasts stood out proudly from under her thin top and again one perfect thigh was exposed through the long spilt in her dress."Just things," she smiled again making my trousers tight. "Sleep now and I'll tell you all about it later."When I awoke she was still there but only in my mind. Without any thought for food or drink I rushed into my studio and sketched her likeness; the energy surged through me and on. He was good before he kicked. I mean, fucking Miles Davis? He’s not going to hire anyone unless they’re a top player. But after ... Just listen to him. He went from great to being perhaps the greatest sax player who ever lived. I mean fucking A Love Supreme? Has anything sounded as amazing as the introduction? Like a fucking sunrise! And that fucking theme.” She sang it. “Fuck. That happened after he cleaned up. Giant Steps. My Favorite Things.”“So you don’t want to get high?”“Of course I want.