“Take off your thong, sweetheart." “Dammit.” I hung my head in false shame, then perked back up. “I’ll do it on one condition.” “What�...s that, Moriah?” “You have to let me see that huge cock of yours again.” I purred, crawling on all fours up to him until our lips touched and he was under me. He slid his hand into my thong strap and snapped in on my skin, sending tingling feelings all down my spine, then proceeded to work the thong off of my being and onto the floor. He slipped a finger deep. " But you went on missions all the time," she countered almost defiantly."Yeah, and how many have I gone on in the last two years, huh? The General promoted me right out of combat," he finished, his voice sour."But you went on the avalanche control helicopter this morning," his daughter-wife pointed out. "By using your own logic, you should have sent someone else." But..." But nothing, Husband. You knew something bad was going to happen, but you didn't let someone else go; you went yourself. So. The guy bends me over the cage and the bigger guy begins whipping me. I scream as blood tickles from the wounds of the whip. Tears stream down my face as the pain is absolutely unbearable. After, several blows land and mark my ass he removes his pants and slips in behind me. He violently shoves his hard cock into my dry pussy lips making me scream for mercy. Yet there is no mercy in either of these men's hearts. The smaller guy moves around to the front of me, now stretched over the small. Everything from burgers and fries to sushi to Mongolian barbeque to pasta to gyros to fish and chips was available. The food was excellent, even if it was a buffet. They split a big 44 ounce margarita, and between the two of them, still managed to get only half of it down. Alan continued to make conversation. He was unfailingly polite, charming even. Marissa wondered if he was some sort of serial killer. She tried once again to probe him, trying to figure out why he needed a call girl to.