Private Eyeful - Cover

Private Eyeful

Copyright© 2003 by D. L. Tash

Chapter 2

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Murray and his partner Jack are back again.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Humor   Incest   Sister   FemaleDom   Group Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Voyeurism   Violence  

I sit in Dolly's, at the bar, nursing my Chivas Regal Scotch.

It's a busy night, and the babes are out in force. The dance floor is full, with girls dancing and kissing and practically humping each other.

Damned nice, if ya ask me.

Murray Antoinette, P.I., A Limited Liability Corporation, is doing just great, thank you.

Teresa catches my eye and smiles. She's the bartender, a hot little Hispanic girl with a slut's taste in clothes.

I like her, a lot.

She nods, with a leer.

Yeah, we both like watching women, checking em out, touching em and, if we get the chance, fucking them.

Teresa says that makes me a Lesbian, so it's okay if we fuck each other.

I have to agree.

Last week, I get a new client, a Lesbian babe, hotter than the sidewalk on a July day. She come's in my new office, near Dolly's, and gives me the sad story.

Her boss at work finds out she's gay. Wants to join in, with her and her girlfriend. Gets handsy, makes threats. She puts him off, he fires her.

So I 'accidentally' meet the guy. I'm wired, but he doesn't know it. We sit in his favorite sports bar, check out the big busted waitress, have a few drinks.

Just two guys, shooting the shit.

He tells about this hot babe at work, this Lez chick, and how he's got her over a barrel.

He tells me how he fired her, and in this soft market, she ain't finding another job for nearly the same pay.

And how he'll hire her back as soon as she and her hot little Lesbian lover get it on with him.

Yeah, I know. It's the Guy Code. I'm supposed to go along and smile, and let him coerce these two chicks into fucking him.

It's What Guys Do.

But it's not what P.I.s do.

Sure: I smile, I leer, I pat him on the back as I leave.

Then I take the tape I made and play it for Lindy and her lawyer.

By the end of the week, this guy's company's coughed up six figures, just to shut my client up.

And the one out on the street looking for work is Mr. Prick himself.

And what did I get out of it? Ten percent. A cool thirty thou.

And a bonus.

I don't know what it is yet, but Lindy asked me to meet her here tonight, so she could give it to me.

I see her come through the door of the bar. I saw her yesterday afternoon, but she was in the office gear: longish skirt, business jacket, her auburn hair pulled back in a bun, very little makeup.

That's not how she's dressed tonight.

Her long legs are encased in painted-on jeans that show every curve of her legs and ass. Her top is black fishnet, and she ain't wearing a bra. Lindy's auburn hair is loosed and kinky, a look I happen to love. And she's wearing bright red lipstick on her pouty little mouth.

The babe she has her arm around is equally hot. She's shorter, and rounder and with a lot more curves. Lush is the only word for it.

This chick is dyed blonde, with way too much makeup and way too little skirt. Way too little blouse too, cropped short to show off the bottoms of a set of knockers that won't quit.

The white fabric is thin, and her nipples are playing hide and seek through the material.

Jesus! Jack, who was kind of laid back, enjoying the scenery, is suddenly wide awake.

And he wants to go for a ride.

The two babes bracket me, one on either side and sit at the bar. Lindy smiles at me.

"What are you drinking?" Lindy asks. "We're buying."

"Chivas," I say with a nod. Christ, this is one hot chick.

I feel something on my other side and Blondie is leaning over, putting her hand on my thigh. Really high on my thigh.

"We really appreciate your help," she tells me, sliding her hand so high she's flirting with Jack.

"Yeah," Lindy says, moving her hot little breasts up against my arm. "I got offered Matthew's job today, so not only am I back at work, but I'm getting a big raise.

It takes me a second to realize who she, talking about, then I realize it's the guy I call Mr. Prick.

I've turned to face Lindy and I feel hot breath on my neck and a luscious set of knockers pushing on my back.

"We just wanted to show how grateful we are," Blondie says, running her tongue along the inside edge of my ear.

Lindy gets up with a smile and reaches for my hand.

"Come on, Murray," she purrs. "We have a nice surprise waiting at home for you."

Well, fuck, I'm not gonna say no.

The three of us walk out of the bar.

Blondie gets me in the back seat of their car and starts unzipping Jack. I'm glad the little prick doesn't have hands, or he'd already be out, saying "howdy,"

But in a second he is anyway, and Blondie sucks him into her hot wet mouth, taking him so deep her lips are flirting with my balls.

I guess I groaned, because Lindy grins back from the drivers seat.

"Melinda doesn't fuck guys, but I do," she smiles. Anyway, she says she does pretty good at oral."

Saying this chick was 'pretty good' at oral is like saying that Secretariat was an allright horse. Jesus, this babe was all over Jack, sucking and licking and mouth-fucking him.

Jack was dancing around, totally engrossed. He's never been sucked like this, and he likes it, a lot.

I get a handful of lush boob and Blondie lifts her little top for me. Jesus, a double handful of heaven, and a hell of a mouth.

What more can I ask for?

Well, I find that out when we got to their apartment. I get into the house, with Jack in my pants struggling and screaming and wanting back out.

He really liked Melinda's mouth.

Lindy closes the door and slips off her blouse. Her little nipples are pierced, with a little golden bar through each one.

She smiles at the bulge in my pants.

"I hope it's okay if all we do with Mel is get sucked and suck her?"

I smile. Sure, I got no problem with that. Sure, Jack would like to check her out, but he's pretty damned happy with her mouth.

Besides, Lindy comes up on me and kisses me, hot and delicious. She's tastes like she was sampling pussy earlier, and I'm willing to bet it was Mel's.

She pulls away and looks flirtingly into my eyes.

"Mel likes sucking cock, and doesn't mind fingers or tongues anywhere else you like," Lindy says with a smile.

"And any opening you'd and Jack would like to try on this body is just fine with me," she grins.

Lindy reaches down and cups Jack. He's bouncing around, anxious to get out and go for it.

Yeah, Jack's pretty well known around Dolly's. He's a nice little prick, though he can get pretty cocky at times.

They drag me over towards the couch. Then Lindy goes for the jacket and shirt while Mel kneels and gets my pants off. Jack leaps out, happy to see Mel again, and she takes him in her mouth again, so fucking deep Jack feels like he's deep sea diving.

Jack likes this ride.

Lindy steps back and peels off those jeans. She didn't bother with panties, and her little pussy hair is trimmed into a little line.

Lindy moves in and kisses me, her little pierced titties pushed tight against my chest.

I slide my hands over her tits and then down her taut belly to her pussy, hot and already damp inside. She moans and rubs against me, while Mel is putting Jack through a complete wash cycle, with all the extras.

Lindy gets me back on the couch, while Mel continues her thorough tongue inspection of Jack, looking for any spot she might have missed.

Lindy is kissing and sucking my face, while Mel does the same for Jack. I got three fingers inside Lindy's hot little pussy, and it seems pretty glad to meet me, because it's putting out juices like mad.

Then Mel slides her mouth off Jack and holds him up, so her girlfriend Lindy can introduce him, very thoroughly, to her pussy. She slides onto Jack and two start getting acquainted, dancing up a storm, while Mel slides up on the couch and introduces her talented tongue to mine, even as Lindy and I are already kissing.

I slide my hands over Mels big tits and nipples. They have a nice drape to them, which I like. And her pussy is meaty as well, a nice little slit, long and inviting, and I part her lips and slide my fingers inside of her hot pussy, damp with excitement.

Mel pulls back, watching Lindy getting fucked by Jack, and she taps her girlfriends shoulder.

"I changed my mind," Mel says. "Can I share?"

Pretty soon, Lindy is flat on her back, with Mel kneeling and sucking her hot little pussy, bending over her doggy style. And I'm sucking Mell, opening her long pussy and licking the hell out of it, sucking every inch of her nice-smelling little twat.

Then I put Jack to her entrance and let him go. He burrows right in, enjoying the new surroundings. It's tighter here, and a lot wetter, but Jack's real adventurous. He likes moving around in her, getting soaked in her pussy juices.

Lindy crawls out from under Mel, and assumes the same position Mel is in, right beside her. She and Mel are kissing like mad, and I am checking out both their asses, so different.

But Lindy looks back at me and wiggles her butt invitingly.

"Can I have what she's having?" she asks.

I smile and pull out of Mel and go into Lindy. Jack is wet with Mel's juices and Lindy likes that.

But she looks around again.

"I changed my mind," she says. "Can you do the other hole please?"

I smile and pull outJjack. He's a little trooper and is not afraid of anything. In fact, he likes dancing around her puckered little ass, slipping around the rough flesh and touching it.

Then he finds her tiny opening, and gently burrows deep inside her hot, greasy ass.

Jack is doing a tail end Tango, and loving it.

Hell, the little prick loves everything.

Mel is up and at me again, kissing me while she feels Jack moving in and out of Lindy's ass. Mel kisses like she gives head: it's a total, and very deep experience.

I feel myself tightening and Jack goes for broke, crawling as deep inside Lindy's ass as he can, then doing his favorite thing, ejaculating inside of her.

I moan and Mel moans and Lindy moans.

Shit, it was good.

Of course, it wasn't over. We ate a light dinner (If you consider lobster a 'light' meal) and had a few glasses of wine.

Then they made me wait while they did the lingerie and high heels thing.

Yeah, I was a little tired, but the sight of these two women, decked out the way they were, took care of that. Lindy wore a sheer, long white gown that clung to her every curve, and was so sheer all the merchandise was on display. Mel had on in a shorty baby doll, with little flowers on it, and her hair in pigtails. She was a pervert's dream, if the young girls you imagine have double D breasts and three inch leather heels.

Well, who am I to ruin their fun?

So Jack and I went to their bedroom, and we played "Where's Jack?" for a while. You know, push in and say "where's Jack?" then pull out and say, "There he is!"

It's his favorite game.

Of course, Lindy and Mel were going at it too, and Mel looked as good at pussy eating as she was at "let's swallow the penis."

Jack got to see both Mel and Lindy, up close and personal, some more. Lindy gave him a little tongue bath, not quite as thoroughly as Mel, but damned nice.

And he took turns in Mel and Lindy, trying to decide which pussy he liked best.

Sometimes Jack has trouble making up his mind.

But he decided to come in Lindy's pussy and he jerks and shakes and wiggles, like a worm having a seizure.

Then he relaxes, very, very happy.

So is Lindy.

It's nearly four AM when we got back to Bad Dolly's. The place was still open. Dolly's is like that. As long as there are paying customers, the bar is open for them.

We go in and I smile at the bartender, a new girl named Jacqueline.

"You're Murray, aren't you?" she asks and I nod.

"You had a call," she tells me. "From Joyce. She's trying to get hold of you."

Joyce. I know her as Muscles, a total bull-dyke and great at it. She owns a gym in town, and we're sometimes drinking buddies. We've been a little more, but Joyce only lets very good male friends ass-fuck her, which she loves.

Her pussy is For Women Only. Yup, that's what's tattooed on her mons, where her pussy hair would be if she didn't have it waxed off every week.

I shit you not.

Anyway, I call the number she left at the bar on my cell and she picks up almost immediately.

"Yeah?" she says.

"Muscles, it's Murray."

There's a moment of silence, then Muscles says softly:

"Murray, I have to see you. Now. Can you come over?"

Her voice is muffled. She sounds tired. She sounds stressed. But there's something else in her voice as well, something I have never heard or seen in Muscles.

She sounds afraid.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," I tell her.

I say goodbye to the girls. They're happy, I'm happy, Jack is absolutely happy.

Yeah, it's the way the world works: I got what Mr. Prick wanted. Only I got it because they wanted to give it, not because I tried to pull off a sleazy scheme on them to force the issue.


I leave the bar and drop by the office.

I don't carry a gun as often as I should. Hell, most PI work is watching people, following em, digging up dirt from former friends and ex-wives. Despite the movies, gunplay is rare.

But when Muscles calls me, sounding scared and on the verge of tears, I decide I should be armed. I get out my 44 Bulldog revolver, loaded with 44 Magnum Hydro-Shock ammo. I slip it into its worn pancake holster and snap it onto my belt, in back, hidden by my jacket.

Saying Muscles isn't exactly the easily scared type is an understatement. It's kind of like saying the Pope isn't exactly an Atheist.

This chick is the toughest thing on the street, male or female.

If she's scared, I'm packing.

I pull up at Muscle's place. It's where I met her, and got caught snooping around on her friend, Lila Montgomery. That could have gone real bad, but it ended up being the best thing to happen to me in years.

I get out and knock, and Muscle's current shack job, Louise, comes to the door.

Louise is a teeny-bopper lover's wet dream. I mean, I've seen a lot of foxy teenaged chicks, but this babe takes it, hands down.

She's in a t shirt and panties. But that doesn't begin to describe her.

Imagine if Hillary Duff, Reese Witherspoon, and Alysa Milano had a threesome and a daughter resulted.

Now make this babe about eighteen, athletic and tanned. Give her long, straight hair, mostly blonde, with reddish brown high-lites. Give her perky little breasts and a high little ass and long slender legs that could make a man cry. Add to that unimaginably blue eyes and full lips and a sensuality you could slice with a knife.

Then give her a wicked sense of humor and a beguiling way of standing right up against you when you're talking.

Dress her in a tight t-shirt that molds to her little tits and tiny bikini panties that down quite cover her brown/gold fuzz and full, pouty cunt lips and you get an idea what I'm talking about.

Louise could give a dead man an erection.

I inhale. Jesus, Louise even smells like fucking. Musky, salty, with a fresh clean scent, with down and dirty undertones.

But right now she looks concerned.

"Thank's for coming," she says softly. "Joyce is in back."

I follow her tight little ass down the hallway, bathing in her perfume.

Damn, I think, this girl could make Anita Bryant go Lesbian.

Louise goes into the bedroom and I follow.

Someone's in the bed, their head covered.

But when we come in, she turns and looks out.

Or at least try to. Muscle's face looks like Mike Tyson used her for speed-bag practice. Her nose is flattened, her right eye swollen completely shut and her right eye almost as bad.

Her lip is split open in three places and the side of her jaw is black and blue.

"What the hell happened?" I ask.

Muscles shrugs.

"I wish I knew," she manages to say out of her bruised mouth.

I look at Louise for help, but she looks away.

I know guilt when I see it.

What the hell is going on here?

"Who beat you up?" I ask Muscles. Yeah, I know it must hurt her to talk, but right now I'm not on nice mode.

I've got a job to do.

Muscles looks at me and shakes her head.

"Donnie Brisco," she says. "Him and two of his guys."

When people say their blood runs cold, it sounds like a literary fiction. But I could feel the chill in my veins.

If Brisco has a bone to pick with Muscles, he just may use one of her bones to do it with.

"He threatened to rape me next time," Muscles manages to say.

Yeah, That's Brisco. He never went for that leg breaking shit.

He learned early on that taking the wife or girlfriend or daughter for a ride with him and his toughs was more effective. Bastard gets the fun of raping them and then lets his buddies have a turn.

He always collects his money.

Brisco and I go way back. In fact, I was kicked off the force because I was coming down to hard on his 'business' interests.

Now Brisco runs this area. Half the lowlifes and sleazes in this town worship the guy. And the other half work for him.

Everyone knows if you want something, from pussy to pills to kiddy porn, Brisco has it.

For a price.

"What's your business with him?" I ask. Whatever it is, Muscles is in deep and Brisco ain't gonna let her come up for air.

Muscles sighs.

"It's Louise," she said. "She owes him."

I sigh and look over at Louise. She avoids my look. Yeah, it's the old story. A hot little number like her just attracts trouble. She's a loaded pistol waiting to go off.

And Muscles has been playing with her.

"Why's he coming after you? You holding money for her?" I ask Muscles.

"No," Muscles says, "but Louise invested it in the gym."

The Polaroid shot is developing quickly: Louise gets some money, invests in Muscle's Gym, then gets deep into Brisco. So he wants Louise's money from the business.

Or Muscles has a new business partner.

I look at her bruised face.

"You reporting this?" I ask.

Muscles shakes her head.

"Why bother? Half the cops are on his pad."

I nod. Brisco's like a condom machine. He's got what people need, and they don't care what they have to pay. That means he's always flush, and every greedy piece of crap is looking to score a piece of that.

That includes some cops.

I was a cop. Long hours, lousy pay, people spitting in your face: A nice packet of cash every week that the wife doesn't know about can keep you in expensive booze and cheap pussy.

It's tempting.

Sometimes too tempting.

"What do they want?" I ask. Brisco doesn't beat the crap outta somebody for no reason. He's got an angle, and I want to know it.

"Sign over the gym. Kick out the girls so his fighters can practice."

I nod. Muscles' gym is known on the street as Little Holland, because of all the Dykes. Brisco wants them out, so the assholes he calls boxers don't have to be around the babes.

They're embarrassed because half these babes are twice the men they are.

Problem is, Brisco always gets his way.

Muscles will be lucky if all she gets is raped and loses the gym.

I sigh. Shit! This is way bigger than I am.

I turn to Louise and she turns away from me again. She knows more than she's telling.

I walk over toward her.

"What do you know about this?" I ask. "How much are you into Brisco for?"

She looks at me, trying to look innocent and doing a bad job of it.

I get a familiar odor, just for a second, and she turns away again.

"I don't know Brisco," she says.

I grab her by her T-shirt and drag her up to me. She looks at me in shock and I kiss her.

She struggles, but I grab her long hair and hold her head still and force my tongue in her very desirable mouth. I hear Muscles' feet hitting the floor and I let Louise go, pushing her down in a heap on the floor.

I turn to Muscles. She's stark naked and pissed off and headed for me. I put my empty hands out to my side. I don't want to fight Muscles.

She's pretty beat up, but Muscles could still snap me in half like a twig, and shove the top half of me up my own asshole.

I respect that.

"I'm done," I tell her. "I got the answer."

Muscles stops and looks at me.

"What answer?" she asks, looking at Louise, crumpled on the floor. "What the hell was that?"

I move my tongue in my mouth. The smell could have been off, but the taste is unmistakable.

"Crack," I tell her. "I can taste it on her tongue. Your little business partner has herself a habit."

Muscles looks at her. Louise doesn't look back.

I bend over Louise and grab her again, ignoring the sweet body and sweeter scent of her.

I drag to her feet. I'm not letting her off that easy.

Because now I know her secret.

Hey, Crack is great: I've tried it.

It's the best fucking high you've ever had. And you go chasing that high, into territory you'd never walk into in a million years, if it weren't for those little magic rocks.

I've seen the story a thousand times. The names, the details, the twists and complications vary, but I don't bother reading them any more.

Because they always have a bad ending.

I slam this teen-aged wet dream up against the wall. She looks at me, angry, afraid, like a caught animal, only this trap she made herself.

"Brisco's your supplier," I say.

She shakes her head.

"No, it's Steve, Steve Buschetti.

Yeah, I know him. Stevie the Rodent. He looks like a rat, but with none of the glamour.

Stevie's bad news. He's also one of Brisco's lieutenants.

"How much you into him for?" I ask.

Louise won't look at me.

I pull her to me, grabbing Louise's hair and twist back her neck. She looks over at Muscles, but she doesn't move one.

Muscles wants to hear too.

"How much?" I ask again, twisting her hair tighter.

I treat always women like equals. That means if I have to beat the shit out of Louise to get her to talk, then she gets treated just like everyone else.

And she's starting to understand that.

Louise says something, but I can't hear it.

I crank back her hair harder and Louise remembers how to talk again.

"Sixty thousand," she gasps. "I owe him sixty thousand."

I let her go. Son of a Bitch!

"It was a mistake," Louise says. "It wasn't my fault!"

Louise begins to cry. Tears don't impress me. I've seen women cry on command to get whatever they want. Real tears are one thing, but these were bullshit tears.

"Stevie made it sound okay, that the crack was cheap," she cries. "He didn't explain about the interest. Then he comes after me, saying pay up or put out. Brisco want me to be a stripper at his club!"

Well, duh. What the hell did she expect? It's the real word babe. Here's a quarter: buy a clue.

But Muscles goes over and hugs her and starts to pet her hair.

"It's all right, Honey," Muscles tells her. "We'll make it all right."

I look at the two of them, and my brain, the business part of the relationship, suddenly tells me to walk away. Just tell Muscles you're glad to know it was a mistake, and go to Bad Dolly's and see if Teresa is there, and see if she wouldn't like some company after work.

But part of me is looking at this impending train-wreck and wanting to help. Brisco finds weaknesses and exploits them. That's his living.

And he has this girl over a barrel and is spreading her cheeks for a good fucking.

And now Muscles has gotten dragged into it.

I like Muscles, a lot. It sure isn't because of Jack. Though Muscles is into anal with guys on rare occasions, she is a confirmed Vagan. She only eats Vaginas and only girls get to eat hers.

But ya gotta respect this woman. Hell, she's openly gay, she's a bodybuilder, has her own gym and she goes the distance for her friends.

Louise, though, I don't know. I do know this girl is a cock magnet: Jack's so attracted he's about to tear my pants to get at her.

Apparently, pussy likes her too.

And she just doesn't get it, not yet. Yeah, she knows she's hot and likes the attention. But she doesn't realize that people, including a lot of bad ones, are gonna flock around her, attracted to that teen-aged fantasy bod and face.

They want to fuck her. Or they want try to own what she has, to sell to other people who want it. Somebody that sensual, that beautiful, is gonna be followed by people for the rest of her life.

And they'll all want to screw her, one way or the other.

Louise and Marnie have been whispering, lover's crap. I don't even try to eavesdrop. I heard every line before.

But Muscles looks up at me and smiles.

"It was all a misunderstanding," Muscles tells me. "Louise will take care of it tomorrow."

Muscles doesn't believe a word of it. She's like the guy tied to a chair by some mooks who have robbed him, who keeps repeating 'Please don't shoot me. Please don't shoot me' over and over, because he knows there's nothing he can do and that bullet is going to shatter his skull any second.

But he says it anyway.

I look at Muscles and nod.

"Good," I tell her, "I'm glad."

Louise looks at me and smiles. Now she's pegged me as another easy mark, someone who will believe anything that comes out of those lips that were made for sucking cock.

I'm fine with that.

We walk out into the living room. It's morning and I'm dragging.

Muscles walks me to the door.

I look over at Louise, who is standing and stretching that taut little body. She looks like a Maxfield Parrish painting.

If Maxfield Parrish did teen porn.

God help me, she is beautiful.

Hell, I'd fuck her in a second.

She's all youth and sex and everything you wanted in High School and didn't have a chance of getting. Tight ass, small proud high tits, face to die for and she's a natural strawberry blonde, with that fuzzy little pouty pussy that begs you to bury your face in it.

She's every man's and Lesbian's wet dream, and probably half the straight women in the world would go with her too.

Problem is, she knows it.

She's putting on a show and Muscles and I are the audience. She stretches way back, showing off that perfect body that just begs to be fucked, then bends way over, pushing out her tight little ass and her little very puckered pussy, just asking to be kissed.

Then she straightens up and smiles, that sweet full mouth just inviting your cock or cunt to introduce itself.

Yeah, she's extremely hot. And Muscles fell for her.

And now Muscle's the one getting burned.


I leave Muscles and head home. Jesus.

Muscles is deep in shit and Louise isn't helping. Hell, she's probably taking a dump on her. I need to find out more about this little pussy, and soon.

That evening I get up and showered and dressed. Looks like I've got a job, whether Muscles knows it or not.

I drive across town and get on the old turnpike. I'm heading to Donnie Brisco's place, one of his legitimate businesses, though a strip joint where the booze is mostly stolen and half the strippers are under-age and all of them are available for a price, is kind of stretching the term "legitimate' to the breaking point.

I pull up at The Half-way Club. It used to be half way to the next town, but since the superhighway went in, it's more like half way to nowhere.

But you wouldn't know it to look at it. They got a big neon sign, with a naked babe on it and a sign on the roof that reads: GIRLS!!! GIRLS!!! GIRLS!!!

Yeah, real creative.

I get out of the car and go in. I feel the Bulldog rubbing against my lower back, and I like the feeling. This place can get pretty rough.

There's a good crowd and some babe is spinning on the pole, giving everyone a real nice shot of her crotch. Yeah, she's wearing the requisite G-string, but it's crammed half way up her pussy and all the guys shout every time she comes around.

No one in their right mind is gonna complain because they happened to get a great beaver shot, are they?

I go over to the bar. It's slow here, even though they have their own stripper on a little stage behind. She sees me and smiles and starts gyrating a little more.

The bartender brings me my drink. He's not friendly, and looks more like a bouncer that serves drinks.

A luscious babe comes over and sits beside me, laying a carefully manicured hand on my arm. I look over and smile. Hey, I'm just a customer, right?

This girl is truly beautiful. No other word for it. Not Louise fuck-kitten beautiful, but young woman beautiful. Long brunette hair, big breasts in a very tight tied top, really putting them on display. I look down at her cleavage and idly wonder if I'm seeing the real thing or Silicon Valley.

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