Three slender silhouettes step out. Two women and a man. Two of them are slightly over dressed, the third would not be out of place in nineteenth cent...ry French brothel. The older woman wears a long black dress with a steep V-shaped cleavage, the man a black tuxedo with a blood red necktie and the young one is wearing a skimpy black lace see though top with no bra under it and a tiny tiny mini skirt over fishnet stockings.From across the street, Gabriela hiding behind her curtains spies on. That contact produced a scream of pleasure. "OH, BILL, THAT FEELS SO GOOD! KEEP IT UP! FUCK ME HARDER! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" The latter words were chanted like a mantra until Anfon came in a combination of muscle jerks and contractions that set me off. Oh, God, did that feel good! I could safely say that, in my experience, a blow job from an expert was great, but being fucked by an expert was even better!We both kind of collapsed, but I managed to roll off of Anfon before I did her any. He treated her like he didn’t own her body and soul. In the deepest part of that soul, she admitted that she doubted she would treat a person she so owned so well. When he promised her he would treat her well she didn’t expect that that meant he would treat her as the person she’d always been. Whether she loved the man alone or that she simply loved her master because she had to, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She liked that feeling of enthrallment almost more than anything. She rapped her. Brad had Amy drive the car to the Department Of Motor Vehicles. He was surprised that she drove very well for a neophyte. She drove slower than Brad would have, but all in all, she was driving like she had at least some experience. She took the drivers test and passed. As they walked out of the building she was staring at her driver's license so hard that she tripped and almost fell down the stairs.Brad made her drive home. He insisted that she drive her car whenever they went anywhere the rest.