Becky looked pleased. “I like a girl who does her research. What did you think?”Now that was a tricky question given I haven’t collected my £60.... I shrug. “A fetish is a fetish.” Seriously what the fuck did that mean?She looked at me and said nothing. “Dressing room is through here,” she said.“Thanks,” she left and shut the door. I dumped my gear, sat in the chair and stared vacantly in the dressing table mirror for 5 minutes. This won’t do, I said to myself and went to find Becky in the. God, it was electric. So soft, yet supple, she kissed quite well, smacking my lips softly until she stayed on them and our lips seem to seal top to top, bottom to bottom. When we opened and our tongues found each other's it was incredible. She tasted so good and her tongue seemed to shadow mine, darting and moving in unison like an old Marx Brothers mirror routine. She pulled herself up closer to, turning her breasts to me. I could feel them through my polo, her hard nipples pressing through. More

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