It doesn't even require a thought. For $300 an hour, you'd do pretty much anything.
"I'm in,"you say.
"Good," Greasy says, "cuz he was already sending a limo."
"Who is this guy?" you ask, sitting up.
"Oh, he's someCEO's son named Roman," Greasy responds. "Apparently he's into some weird shit." He says this last part glancing to your still-exposed member. Blushing, you pull your skirt down over it.
Before you know it, a long, white limo pulls into the street. The driver rolls down the window. "Nicki? This the bitch?"
"Yep," Shorty responds. "Get in there." He pushes you into the limo. "Our cut will be on our card, right, driver?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." The driver thankfully pulls away from the smelly drunks.
You shift around in the backseat of the limo, trying to find a comfortable way to sit that doesn't expose your dick to the world.
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