As he approached the table he desired, one with a good view of the door, the man sitting there seemed to decide he was drunk enough for the night, and...lurched off as Camorra approached. Smiling subtly to himself - centuries-old presence still had its uses - Camorra seated himself down and relaxed. His reverie was broken by the curtain at the door being brushed aside and a crowd of young men stumbling in, all clearly somewhat merry. Camorra raised an eyebrow to himself, and studied them under. “You don’t seem to mind at all” she laughed. I felt the heat rush to my face then, dick leaping and fighting to break free from the restraints of my jeans. She held firm, timing her squeezes between throbs. I shifted again, and her hand fell away. As I made move to get up, she beat me to it and stood in front of me. The waist of her skirt was at eye height, black and pattern ruffling and creasing before my eyes until I saw more and more thigh. “Would you like to see more?” she said smiling down. More

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