From room to room, where others were talking to or cuddling each other. Up another flight of stairs, past a queue by the loo, and three floors up, in ...his towering North London squat, where the low thumping sounds told her that she’d arrived outside the chill-out room. Tiens! She suddenly realised that she needed to chill out more than anything else. Sweat was plastering her short hair close to her scalp. She needed more skank. Or some charas. Or anything. She pushed open the door, letting out. The building was lit up bright in the darkness and as we walked inside it was very busy with people laughing and enjoying the music. The lights were dim and the disco lights spun the room slowly reflecting the Roy Orbison slow song that a few couples people were dancing to in the lounge area.As we searched for a booth i glanced to Sir as He reached into His inner jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope, He handed it to me and told me to go to the bathroom and read carefully. i did as ordered. She took off her top first and peeled off her bra and threw it in my lap seeing her big boobs kinda turned me on . then she put her top back on with no bra now and her boobs bounced around as she wiggled herself out of her pants and then stripped her panties off revealing her chubby belly i being a panty expert knew she was wearing a pair of vanityfair panties . she got them off and threw them into my lap where her bra was still sitting . as she was putting her pants back on she asked me what i. That would be fun... “I will arrange it, Madam. Tomorrow afternoon all right?” “Fine ...” “Here?” “It seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” Thus it was arranged . . . and thus Belle waited in bitter misery. As the morning wore on, the sheer utter unfairness of it loomed larger and larger in her mind. Her action had been quite natural. Instinctive. No one could have avoided doing otherwise. Such pain. So sudden. So unexpected. Yet ... no allowance had been made. But, as Belle knew, there was no.