Don't press your luck

It's been a busy day, and not without some potential for future profit, but that last bit was a little unsettling. You had been too confident while **** the lovely Chanel, but listening to her panicked cries for help being ignored by her friends had been a fucking turn-on. Now you're covered in God knows what and still have to avoid those rich snots from Hamilton who are undoubtedly pissed at you for ruining their sweet little orgy.

You should have gagged the bitch, but man did it feel good fucking her like that while her friends were laughing at her and cheering you on. But now you need some rest.

It is not hard to avoid the Hamilton jerks because they are constantly calling out to each other, some are trying to talk the girls into returning to the lake, while others are still thrashing about in the bushes looking for some boogyman.

Once inside the kitchen you go to the kitchen and pour yourself a stiff shot of vodka from the bottle you brought with you for times like this. Shooting it back in one quick toss, you grimace as you feel the burn of the ****. That's exactly what you needed. With a smile you put the bottle back in the freezer and head upstairs to bed, thinking about what you learned tonight and trying to place all the pieces in the right boxes.