Terrified, she looked about the bar. Another stripper was now on the stage lying on her back with her legs widely separated. A patron had his face pla...tered between them. In a corner, a g-stringed waitress was vainly slapping at the wandering hands of her customer. Another waitress was leading one of the customers behind a velvet curtained barrier in the rear.“Is this a brothel?” Amy asked.‘From what I have heard, this is a pretty typical strip club in Montmartre,” Margaret replied.“How would. “Ah,” he was groaning almost like a wild animal. She coughed, clinging onto his arms, tightly. Their nails were digging into each other’s skin, but they both were too wild to feel any pain. She was struggling for breath, though.“I’m cumming!” He finally moaned, and with a few more hard thrusts, loaded his entire self into her pussy. He finally let go of her neck, and she, his wrists.He fell to the floor. She loosened his belt, put it aside, and slowly laid by his left side. By now he had. More

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