what looked like chalk.
“Rouge me,” Sasha demanded and he stared at
her blankly. From the corner of his eye he noticed Taylor glancing
his way and moving toward him.
“Err, what?” Leslie said blankly.
Sasha clucked in impatience and stepped back
a little. “Rub this,” she held up the chalk, “On these.” With her
other hand, she indicated her breasts.
Leslie’s jaw dropped wide open. Of all the
things he’d had to do tonight, this had to be the worst.
“Why?” he said feebly. “I mean, you’re going
to be wearing something over them. A suit, aren’t you? No one will
see them…” His voice tailed off at the narrowed and angry eyes of
the model.
“I will know,” she
imperiously. “It is a custom for me, and I want you to do it. Now.
Put it on my nipples.”
She forced the chalk into Leslie’s hands and
his gut churned. If Laverne hadn’t been watching him with hawk eyes
from the other side of the room, he’d have turned tail and run.
“I’d suggest you get to it, Leslie.” Taylor’s
barely contained chuckle at his side caused Leslie to glower darkly
at his friend. “I mean, you don’t want to mess with Sasha’s
traditions, do you? That’s bad luck.” He snorted loudly.
“Fuck you,” Leslie mouthed at him. Taylor
bent over in laughter.
“Da .” Sasha nodded
fiercely, her eyes conveying her approval of Taylor’s words. “Bad
luck not to do it.” She thrust her chest and dusky nipples out
toward Leslie. He gave a heart-wrenching sigh of resignation and
with shaking hands, raised the reddish chalk towards the pinnacles
of female perfection. Wincing, he circled one with the chalk, once,
twice then did the same to the other. The nipples now stood out
darkly against Sasha’s tanned skin and she stared at them
critically. Then she bestowed a dazzling smile on Leslie and leaned
forward to kiss him on the forehead.
“Spaseeba ,” she
squealed, turned and disappeared with a flourish of tanned, very
firm arse. Leslie levelled his fiery gaze at Taylor who was
struggling to keep his composure.
“You are such a prick,” he said evenly as
Taylor gasped in amusement.
“I have one of those, yes,” Taylor
spluttered. “Oh God, Leslie, your face. It was too damn precious.
You looked as if someone had asked you to eat a baby.”
“That might have been preferable,” Leslie
muttered. “Honestly, what else are these people going to expect me
to do tonight?”
His question was answered sooner than he’d
anticipated. Another of the models, Bernsen Jenner, sauntered over,
all one hundred and fifty pounds of him, stark naked, with a dick
that looked as if it could be used as a third leg to kick start a
jumbo jet.
Bernsen waved toward his crotch. Leslie
stared and he noticed Taylor was having a good look, too.
“Leslie, my dumpling,” he crooned. “I need
you to trim some stray hairs for me. My B is looking a little
untidy.”
Leslie shook his head in disbelief at the
vision that was Bernsen’s crotch. His groin was artfully shaved
with the initials B and J either side of the meaty appendage that
swung between his legs. This was still better than dealing with
lady parts, and Leslie was quick to nod his head. After all, dicks
and balls were more his speciality.
“Sure,” he burbled, “Glad to.” He reached
over to a nearby dressing table and grabbed a pair of clippers.
“More your thing, then,” whispered Taylor in
his ear as he continued staring at Bernsen’s dick. “I’m really glad
you invited me tonight. This has been an awesome evening.”
“Uh huh,” Leslie said as he knelt down before
Bernsen, feeling uncomfortably as if he was about to give a blow
job. “Wait until I tell Draven how much you enjoyed yourself.”
He revelled in the sight of Taylor’s
discomfort at that veiled threat as he worked. Bernsen gave a
mournful sigh as he watched Leslie busy himself tidying up the
man’s bush, pushing his dick away gently to one side.
“You pay two hundred pounds
“Rouge me,” Sasha demanded and he stared at
her blankly. From the corner of his eye he noticed Taylor glancing
his way and moving toward him.
“Err, what?” Leslie said blankly.
Sasha clucked in impatience and stepped back
a little. “Rub this,” she held up the chalk, “On these.” With her
other hand, she indicated her breasts.
Leslie’s jaw dropped wide open. Of all the
things he’d had to do tonight, this had to be the worst.
“Why?” he said feebly. “I mean, you’re going
to be wearing something over them. A suit, aren’t you? No one will
see them…” His voice tailed off at the narrowed and angry eyes of
the model.
“I will know,” she
imperiously. “It is a custom for me, and I want you to do it. Now.
Put it on my nipples.”
She forced the chalk into Leslie’s hands and
his gut churned. If Laverne hadn’t been watching him with hawk eyes
from the other side of the room, he’d have turned tail and run.
“I’d suggest you get to it, Leslie.” Taylor’s
barely contained chuckle at his side caused Leslie to glower darkly
at his friend. “I mean, you don’t want to mess with Sasha’s
traditions, do you? That’s bad luck.” He snorted loudly.
“Fuck you,” Leslie mouthed at him. Taylor
bent over in laughter.
“Da .” Sasha nodded
fiercely, her eyes conveying her approval of Taylor’s words. “Bad
luck not to do it.” She thrust her chest and dusky nipples out
toward Leslie. He gave a heart-wrenching sigh of resignation and
with shaking hands, raised the reddish chalk towards the pinnacles
of female perfection. Wincing, he circled one with the chalk, once,
twice then did the same to the other. The nipples now stood out
darkly against Sasha’s tanned skin and she stared at them
critically. Then she bestowed a dazzling smile on Leslie and leaned
forward to kiss him on the forehead.
“Spaseeba ,” she
squealed, turned and disappeared with a flourish of tanned, very
firm arse. Leslie levelled his fiery gaze at Taylor who was
struggling to keep his composure.
“You are such a prick,” he said evenly as
Taylor gasped in amusement.
“I have one of those, yes,” Taylor
spluttered. “Oh God, Leslie, your face. It was too damn precious.
You looked as if someone had asked you to eat a baby.”
“That might have been preferable,” Leslie
muttered. “Honestly, what else are these people going to expect me
to do tonight?”
His question was answered sooner than he’d
anticipated. Another of the models, Bernsen Jenner, sauntered over,
all one hundred and fifty pounds of him, stark naked, with a dick
that looked as if it could be used as a third leg to kick start a
jumbo jet.
Bernsen waved toward his crotch. Leslie
stared and he noticed Taylor was having a good look, too.
“Leslie, my dumpling,” he crooned. “I need
you to trim some stray hairs for me. My B is looking a little
untidy.”
Leslie shook his head in disbelief at the
vision that was Bernsen’s crotch. His groin was artfully shaved
with the initials B and J either side of the meaty appendage that
swung between his legs. This was still better than dealing with
lady parts, and Leslie was quick to nod his head. After all, dicks
and balls were more his speciality.
“Sure,” he burbled, “Glad to.” He reached
over to a nearby dressing table and grabbed a pair of clippers.
“More your thing, then,” whispered Taylor in
his ear as he continued staring at Bernsen’s dick. “I’m really glad
you invited me tonight. This has been an awesome evening.”
“Uh huh,” Leslie said as he knelt down before
Bernsen, feeling uncomfortably as if he was about to give a blow
job. “Wait until I tell Draven how much you enjoyed yourself.”
He revelled in the sight of Taylor’s
discomfort at that veiled threat as he worked. Bernsen gave a
mournful sigh as he watched Leslie busy himself tidying up the
man’s bush, pushing his dick away gently to one side.
“You pay two hundred pounds
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