Collapsing back onto the foot of the bed crosswise, I yawned and reached between my legs to give the boys a comfortable scratch, the protruding, uncut...tip of my typical morning hard-on grazing against my palm. I glanced up at the pristine lemon yellow pillow beside my rumpled one. “Fuck. Two more days until Marie’s back from Montreal with that French club thing,” I muttered at the wall. A yawn and sidelong stretch dropped my right hand into the open clothes’ hamper. A. There were several other girls and women sitting in the waiting room, ranging from Japanese to Caucasian.After a short while she was invited by a Japanese woman into one of the rooms down the hallway, she saw a hallway on her right with a thick black curtain and some paintings on the wall she could not make out what they were.Once inside the room, Betty was greeted by a Japanese woman and some Japanese men, in the back of the room there was a table about no more but a mere few inches above the. More

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