To calm myself, I unlocked the cases from the car and did a quick check of my hardware. The tiny P3AT, barely over 5" long and just eight ounces, was ...implicity itself. The faint smell of gun oil eased my nerves as I carefully checked each round. I made sure the feed was clean and smooth, tested its laser, then its fit in the padded cloth clutch, barely bigger than my smartphone.The big two-pound Sig Sauer was comforting in a different way. It was the heavy artillery. Each of the fifteen rounds. I hear him grunt and he pushed me over onto the desk, while his finger slipped and rubbed my clit while he parted my legs with his other hand. Fuck, it was so good.Then I heard him kneel and he was pulling aside my thong and his tongue found my clit. I couldn't help but cum. It was mindblowing! He slipped his two fingers in and pumped them in and out as I came. My legs were shaking and my nipples were so hard. I could hardly catch my breath.Then he turned me around and slowly pulled my thong. It was terribly mysterious and almost worrisome as I sat in the booth, eating my dinner and thinking of the possibilities. I knew for certain what I wanted, which was to feel my hands along those shapely thighs, slowly curling my fingers under her mid length skirt, praying to find out she was wearing stockings and not panty hose. But wait; let me get back to reality here. Isabella sat across from me, wearing a black skirt. Not too long. Not too short. That skirt was just right. Beneath it, she. Well, for the most part. I'll block out your face for when I'm showing you off to possible new.... playmates. Otherwise, there's no telling were those pictures or videos might end up. That won't be much of a problem, though, right, Stacey? You'll be a good whore for me, and whoever I tell you, Right?" I looked up at him as I whimpered onto his now-hard cock, nodding. He pulled out of my mouth and gave me a stern look. I knew what he wanted me to say."Yes Daddy, I'll be a good whore for you, I.