My own thought or theirs, or perhaps all three combined? It made no difference. It was welcomed, as were the fingers that teased me open, and the hand... that stroked my thighs, gently spreading them. I could feel myself growing wet with hungry arousal. Desire flooded my thoughts, erasing everything else. For the first time since the initial storm, I wasn’t repulsed by the touch of another being. I felt sweetness flooding me, and tenderness and warmth. Writhing, I reached out, unable to touch,. "You don't know how close you are to becoming a tasty treat my sweet!"An angelic voice sang out. My eyes darted around the room to see what was going on and who hadinvaded my humble abode. A ghostly pale and yet strangely beautiful,dark red haired woman came sashaying out of a dark corner of my room,her heels clicking on the hardwood floor."Who are you?" I asked. She stood about 5'10, with well defined curves.If I hadn't known who she was, I would have fainted at the sight of sucha beautiful. One of the girls said she had been there before and in the back, they have several private stalls with glory holes in them. We all came up with the brilliant idea of taking turns in one of them and maybe we could suck some dick! The place had lots of men milling around anyway so Valerie went inside first and she had Mary go with her. It was only a couple seconds before someones cock pushed in the hole and the two of them sucked and licked it, not even knowing who's cock it was! The other three. And Eric Workman isn’t a bad-looking guy. What do you think will happen when Eric has his interview with Ms. Abrams? Could it be that…? THANK YOU FOR TALKING WITH ME, MS… ‘There are times…’ Eric Workman thought as he sat in the motel room, ‘being a journalist isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’ He was scheduled to do an interview with Lynnette Abrams, a noted feminist who was in the area to conduct a seminar on empowering women at a local university. The woman in questions, who was at that time.