She wondered how long the boyfriend would keep it in his pants. The other rules were simple. Food in the apartment would be shared, as well as chores....No TV, stereo or other loud noise after 11 pm. Wendi had no problems with any of that. The apartment was on the second floor of a single family home. The downstairs was occupied by Professor Harris and her teenage son, Chris. The apartment was functional. They had a bathroom with a walk-in closet off the bedroom. There were two standard beds,. They were talking about the ambush and the hostage. I guessed the hostage must be me.Just then I felt another prod in my ribs. I let out a little groan and turned to see who was tormenting me. It was a girl. She looked to be about thirteen, but it was hard to tell for sure. She was slender, almost skinny, with dark hair and dark eyes. When she saw that I was looking at her she spoke."So, you are awake American man." Her English was heavily accented but understandable.I decided it would be a. It made her smile as she did. His words were deliberately taunting. He called her his 'slut', his 'whore', and that fanned the flames of sexual lust all the more. She didn't care if she was a slut, or a whore. That fabulous black cock of Willis' had been a revelation to her the first time she's seen it out in the open. Her husbands cock (or rather, 'penis') couldn't begin to compare to Willis'. Not in a million years!Willis asked her if she missed his 'big (N-word) cock', to which she readily. I smiled back, and said I did also and would get a booth for us when she was done. She reached out and held my hand as we walked to the back. Of course for the women there was a line, and I squeezed and headed into the men’s room. I took care of what I needed to do, adjusting my package before returning to the club. She was the first in line now so I smiled and as luck would have it my favorite table was available.Almost around a corner from the hall to the bathrooms, the most private and.