He grabbed a fistful of her beautiful red hair, now matted with sweat, and jerked her head back. "What do you want, bitch?" he asked gruffly."Please, ...h, please...." she whimpered, hoping he will stop her humiliation, but knowing otherwise.He tightened his grip, pulling her head back more sharply. He found her clit with his thumb and began a gentle massage, causing her body to shudder. "It's easy, bitch. Just tell me what you want, what you need, what all bitches need."She was beaten and knew. And keep yer mouth shut" made me stiffen. I felt a thick cream being carefully smeared over most of my face, neck, shoulders, and upper back and chest. A few minutes later it started to itch, and she told me that I needed at least a few more minutes. When I started trying to wriggle because it was beginning to burn, someone took damp cloths and wiped every bit of it off, rinsing me several times. This was followed by some sort of soothing lotion. It had been a long time since someone. "No thank you," I answered. I excused myself and starting checking out the room, looking for friends. I was not going to let an obviously disgruntled female ruin my evening. Then I saw her: Simona Petrescu. She was gorgeous, long, dark brown almost black hair, eyes just as dark, tiny shapely body, a perfect specimen. I walked over to introduce myself. "Hello, I am Eddie, what's your name?"It seemed like an eternity before she spoke. "I know who you are, your reputation precedes you," she. My son would usually sleep until four in the afternoon, so I had the privacy to do as far as what to wear.I would usually come home, strip down to a thong, pick up my sun oil and dark sunglasses, and be on the deck by one o'clock. Sometimes iced tea or a wine cooler would be my refreshment for the day.I knew some of my son's friends would often come by to go out to the local Hooter's before he went to work, but that was never before late afternoon.I guess I was napping, lying on my back, and.
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