trust us.”
“I can imagine there’d be a lot at stake for you all.” He folded his hands along his chest.
“True.” She placed her hand on his.
He asked, “You still thinking about going back home? Being with your guy?”
“He’s not my guy. He’s my ex, for sure.” She got a bit closer. “Not ready to leave New York. Working for Lip Service is fine. It’s hard to walk away from.”
“Would you ever do it on your own? Here or in Vegas. Actually, there might be even more money in Vegas. All of this is legal there, right?”
“I really think that it is legal in some areas, but it’s less lucrative. There’s not as much risk out there. I mean, there’s an escort service flyer handed out to tourists every step they take. Not sure if I’d prefer to be on my own.”
Suddenly, his phone rang and he grabbed it, sending the caller straight to voice mail. It rang again and he sent it to voice mail again. Just as he began to look back up he asked, as if it was routine, “You think maybe I can get some pussy now?”
She answered quickly, “That’s why I’m here.”
“Yes, it is.” He pulled the sheets away from his body to expose his hard-on, and pressed 1 for his voice mail. He listened and then sent a text, before dialing his secretary. “Got your message. Thanks for telling me. Yeah. I’m good. Listen. Send a car to pick me up at the Court Hotel in thirty minutes to take me to Maxwell’s Steakhouse on Forty-Eighth. Please make a reservation under my name for two. If my wife calls, let her know I got her message, please, that I sent her a text, and that I’ll meet her for dinner at 7:30. Bye.” He hung up and set the phone down on the bed between them.
“No meeting after all?” Leilani asked.
“No. CNN canceled my interview to cover the latest Eric Walters sex text madness. He’s about to issue a statement of apology, and resign.”
He stood from the bed and went to the bathroom, dick stiff like he could hang a towel on it.
Leilani glanced over as a new text came in on his phone.
Got your text. Sorry you couldn’t pick up the phone when I called. Glad you’re enjoying your Mom. Tell her I said hi. Love you, my Mr. President.
He said from the bathroom, “If my dick would go down I could pee and then get that pussy before I leave. If not, I’ll be at home in the shower tonight choking my dick in your name, wishing I did.”
She smiled and put the phone on the nightstand, and adjusted herself so that when he came out, he could see her on all fours.
Moments later, after he flushed the toilet and washed his hands, his penis saw her and bounced its way back into hard state. “Damn.”
She saw his dick excitement. “Wow. You really are something. Like, totally amazing.”
He took a condom and immediately penetrated her, fucking her deep like it was sexercise, bucking her by using repeated hip strength with such intense force it looked like he was riding a bull.
She ground her hips back at him in exact measure.
He said, as if on a wild high, “This is the fucking life.”
MSNBC reports the governor of New Mexico, Clinton Ware, contemplated throwing his hat in the ring for president. However, recent accusations of sexual harassment during his term have swayed his decision. Senator Darrell Ellington and his campaign have blasted the governor, stating that such accusations against him would cause his entry into the race to be short lived.
Four
Kemba
Friday—June 17, 2011
K emba Price’s story was a little different from the others. His Protestant mother disapproved of her one and only son’s questionable lifestyle. Price was the name he gave himself when he came to the states. He was born Kemba Abais, in a town called Mombasa, off the coast of Kenya.
When he was a teen, he’d sneak out of their apartment late at night to play gigolo, meeting the wealthy American tourist women at the Indian Ocean Beach Club resort. They were mainly lonely, wealthy, adventurous, older women who
“I can imagine there’d be a lot at stake for you all.” He folded his hands along his chest.
“True.” She placed her hand on his.
He asked, “You still thinking about going back home? Being with your guy?”
“He’s not my guy. He’s my ex, for sure.” She got a bit closer. “Not ready to leave New York. Working for Lip Service is fine. It’s hard to walk away from.”
“Would you ever do it on your own? Here or in Vegas. Actually, there might be even more money in Vegas. All of this is legal there, right?”
“I really think that it is legal in some areas, but it’s less lucrative. There’s not as much risk out there. I mean, there’s an escort service flyer handed out to tourists every step they take. Not sure if I’d prefer to be on my own.”
Suddenly, his phone rang and he grabbed it, sending the caller straight to voice mail. It rang again and he sent it to voice mail again. Just as he began to look back up he asked, as if it was routine, “You think maybe I can get some pussy now?”
She answered quickly, “That’s why I’m here.”
“Yes, it is.” He pulled the sheets away from his body to expose his hard-on, and pressed 1 for his voice mail. He listened and then sent a text, before dialing his secretary. “Got your message. Thanks for telling me. Yeah. I’m good. Listen. Send a car to pick me up at the Court Hotel in thirty minutes to take me to Maxwell’s Steakhouse on Forty-Eighth. Please make a reservation under my name for two. If my wife calls, let her know I got her message, please, that I sent her a text, and that I’ll meet her for dinner at 7:30. Bye.” He hung up and set the phone down on the bed between them.
“No meeting after all?” Leilani asked.
“No. CNN canceled my interview to cover the latest Eric Walters sex text madness. He’s about to issue a statement of apology, and resign.”
He stood from the bed and went to the bathroom, dick stiff like he could hang a towel on it.
Leilani glanced over as a new text came in on his phone.
Got your text. Sorry you couldn’t pick up the phone when I called. Glad you’re enjoying your Mom. Tell her I said hi. Love you, my Mr. President.
He said from the bathroom, “If my dick would go down I could pee and then get that pussy before I leave. If not, I’ll be at home in the shower tonight choking my dick in your name, wishing I did.”
She smiled and put the phone on the nightstand, and adjusted herself so that when he came out, he could see her on all fours.
Moments later, after he flushed the toilet and washed his hands, his penis saw her and bounced its way back into hard state. “Damn.”
She saw his dick excitement. “Wow. You really are something. Like, totally amazing.”
He took a condom and immediately penetrated her, fucking her deep like it was sexercise, bucking her by using repeated hip strength with such intense force it looked like he was riding a bull.
She ground her hips back at him in exact measure.
He said, as if on a wild high, “This is the fucking life.”
MSNBC reports the governor of New Mexico, Clinton Ware, contemplated throwing his hat in the ring for president. However, recent accusations of sexual harassment during his term have swayed his decision. Senator Darrell Ellington and his campaign have blasted the governor, stating that such accusations against him would cause his entry into the race to be short lived.
Four
Kemba
Friday—June 17, 2011
K emba Price’s story was a little different from the others. His Protestant mother disapproved of her one and only son’s questionable lifestyle. Price was the name he gave himself when he came to the states. He was born Kemba Abais, in a town called Mombasa, off the coast of Kenya.
When he was a teen, he’d sneak out of their apartment late at night to play gigolo, meeting the wealthy American tourist women at the Indian Ocean Beach Club resort. They were mainly lonely, wealthy, adventurous, older women who
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