Her mind consciously considered each Polish word before she said it. "My language is not yours. My name is Shanna."The girl's confused expression did ...ot leave as Shanna buttoned up the fly, tying the rope belt. She bent down, breasts hanging like the udders they were, grabbed the "blouse", and slipped it over her head as she straightened. No bra tonight. Looking at the girl, her embarrassment was clear. Shanna was too tired for this."What do you want?"The girl looked down, hands clenched. The dress was the type I imagined a poor tenant farm girl might wear to church on Sunday mornings. I thought her to be close to 30, far older than most of the hookers that frequented our posh casino, and about 4 or 5 years younger than me.She still hadn't made me as Casino security, so I asked, "What did you say?" I asked if you would like to visit with me this afternoon, sir." She was looking at the floor or my shoes or anything other than me. There was definitely something wrong here. She was. My left hand wandered between his cheeks, my thumb massaging the outside of his ass, rubbing him, rubbing the wetness from my mouth all over his ass. I leaned over and took a bit more of his cock in my mouth and at the same time tilted my index finger a bit, probing his ass. He arched up, pushing his cock into my mouth. I should have expected it but it surprised me just a bit and I had to back off just a bit. My finger never got interrupted and I pushed it in, curling the tip forward towards. ‘Dirty girl,’ she whispered, ‘you’re soaking wet!’ ‘Oh yes,’ I moaned, agreeing to the image of being punished by the strict older teacher and her assessment of my state of arousal. ‘Oh god, please, I need to come!’ I was close, my repeated self-denial had obviously short-circuited my pleasure zones. The heat between my legs was mounting with an alarming rate, and a few more rubs of Anne’s soft fingers would send me over the edge. ‘Not yet!’ She pulled her hand away, and I slumped back against.