In the artists' room

Later, you were already groggy from drinking when you entered the room. It was a mess. Clothes here, accessories there. The room smelled sweet of perfume. The single double bed in the center of the room was also messy.

You began to explore the room carefully. There was makeup and sweets on top of a closet. Fool's clothes in an open suitcase. Sexy prostitute attire, leather and faux chain mail to play soldiers.

"That's giving me an idea," Jimmy said, sitting on the bed. He'd had more booze than anyone else. Suddenly, as if he was improvising, Jimmy stuck his dick out. He was hard, pulsing.

“Jimmy!” you ran and closed the door.

“Let's have fun, my sweetheart,” he said, smiling.

You looked at John, who had the same expression as always. He was staring at Jimmy.

"What? John?” Jimmy asked. "No need to be ashamed... he's seen you in action before and... also, if he wants, he can participate... come here, come."

You looked at John, who was now staring at you, as if he was asking your permission.