But no touching. The session lasts an hour and you give me a hundred quid each—plus, anything you give me to wear, I get to keep.” They agreed way...too easily. I think I could have asked for more, but a deal is a deal. It seemed that, for a hundred quid, they were both happy enough with their camera phones. The shop assistant put a note on the door, saying that the shop was closed for lunch. That gave us free rein in the shop—we didn’t need to move to that dirty back room. I faced the two of. As you can assume I am a whore, a slut, a woman that needs and cravessex. That is my life now, I live for it and can think of nothing else, mymind is consumed with it. I was not always like this; I was once a manwith normal desires. In fact I was once a much respected reporter for amajor newspaper, until I met her, my mistress, the one I now proudlyserve without hesitation.How did I become like this you may ask, let me tell you my story.My name is Lisa or at least it is now, it was once Mark. I. Including shutting down my phone.First, I needed to get a large, single-compartment duffel bag that could carry about 150lbs. I dropped into the local sporting goods store and looked at their stock. They had a lot of the smaller gym bags that wouldn't work for what I needed it to. I didn't want to ask, asking would create a memory in somebody else. Get in, get what you need, and get out. Make no impressions, leave no memories. Finally I found something that would work. It was large. I could feel she was soaked through her panties.“Hurry you sexy man.” she said in a slightly slurry voice.I turned around and went to the toilet. I was in there for a little bit after I finished chucking a piss. I was preparing myself for what was about to happen. I walked out of the toilet and towards the bed. But I was stopped in my tracks. She was passed out. My heart and cock sank. What the hell happened? How much did she have to drink?I walked up to her and shook her a little, there was no.