I sent the :P emoji.Then around 12 am, I texted her, that wasn’t even the best moment of the night.She asked then what was?I ignored her texts and w...nt to sleep. Next morning I saw she had sent 15 messages asking what was?I told her I’ll tell you when we meet next.Now she was pissed and hot with anxiety.We kept texting, as we had both stopped going to the stadium for a while. She had shared picture of her family. She had married at 24 and had a 14 year old daughter studying boarding in her. Well six nipples disappeared from view and Brad suddenly noticed that fists were no longer hitting him."Well, that's progress," he thought to himself still on his knees.Now his Brad's thighs were being kicked by hard shoes. Those kicks really hurt and it would take some time for those bruises to heal. Now they were trying to kick his dick and his testicles. Brad was clearly annoyed, so he decided to yank down those tattered dresses to the level of their ankles. That would stop the kicking. . I hate their hideous male presence in the cosseted, secure boudoir of my home. Despise the way they recline across my furniture surrounded by a haze of beer and chips that, despite my plug-in air freshener, is going to hang heavy amongst the air molecules of my small apartment for days to come. Yet mostly, I loath their sneering, ogling faces, their thrusting obvious groins and my own ridiculously inappropriate nakedness.“Beer … of course.” I plaster a smile across my lips; but I don’t want to. She was in Vegas much less that she would be in the same club as me. “O Hiya, sorry, that is me… I didn’t-” She cut me off, placing her fingers to my lips and looking me straight in the eyes with her big brown eyes she asked, “Was that thing you showed me real? And can it really cum twice, like you claimed?” All I could do was nod my head yes and followed her lead as she guided me through the club and out into the casino lights of the Vegas night. I didn’t know where Misty was taking me, I was.