It was all a part of being a high class prostitute I was learning. A man didn't want to have to explain his wrinkled clothes when he went home to his ...ife, so a good whore hung them up for him and kept his clothes neat, even being ready to sew a button back on for him if he needed one after she ripped his shirt off to get to his cock, in a hurry. Once I had Gary's tie, suit jacket and shirt hung up for him, I started rubbing my fingers through his chest hair with one hand while I loosened his. The whole atmosphere smells like dirty lusty sex at this point. He sits up, focuses on my ass and takes two fingers reach up to stick them in my mouth. Lube them up he commands. I lick them leaving as much spit on them as I can. He then pulled them back and inserts them into my asshole! I hear him spitting on his finger again to lubricate them even more! This was totally unprepared, and therefore the only lube to help is saliva!My pussy was a hot wet mess as I’m still rubbing it and I start to. ) I had to shorten the handlebars down into the fork to the last setting, and then reverse the sweep of the bars so that instead of a goat horn sweep, they had a cow horn sweep. After I moved the control levers to the bottom part of the curve, I could reach them fairly comfortably. I adjusted the seat back pinion to the forwardmost adjustment, and it worked fine, if looked slightly rediculous. However, the bike exuded so much power and menace, with its red and orange flames and shiny chrome,. I looked a little older than I am, and figured I try getting in come Saturday. Going in, it looked like a normal used book store. In the corner at the back of the room there was a door with a sign over it, must be 21 or older to enter. Opening it, I seen magazines of all types on the shelves. Walking down the isle looking, I didn't notice him coming up behind me. When I heard my name, I turned around quickly. Mr Smith, my history teacher was standing in front of me. I was so nervous I started.