She moved her head rhythmically as I started to massage her, slightly biting her lower lips opening her eyes slightly and closing with a muffled hiiss...ss sound. Mean while I moved my right hand gently behind her back feeling her ass over her slippery sari and got hold of a thick muscle of her back and squeezed gently, she raised up in air muffling a short ahhhhhhhh from deep throat. I was able to see the back whenI squeezed her ass through the big mirror behind her. She was standing with her. ‘Quentin, this is Emma,’ said Rebekah. ‘It’s her first time here.’ ‘Performing?’ said Quentin. Emma snorted. ‘Not a chance,’ she said. Quentin ushered them through the door, out of the litter-strewn, seedy bustle of Soho and into the velvet faux-luxury of the cabaret bar. They bought their tickets from the box office, handed their coats in to the cloakroom, and stepped into the small, dimly lit theatre space, full of little round candle-lit tables. To Emma’s relief, she and Rebekah were among. More

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