..I got to the salon, a softly masculine brushed-steel-grey motifthroughout the walls, with little splashes of color here and there insmall orchid vas...s...and all men. There were a few guys chatting towardsthe back, and the..do I call him a receptionist? 'Huh' I said to myself,wanting to drink it all in, but also not just gawk like a tourist fromNebraska looking for a Chipotle. Wrong turn! [apologies, Nebraskagirls, I love you too]"Hi" came the singsong greeting from the front desk.I turned. Then he pulled out. Some thing like a pint of horse cum gushed from Buffy’s cunt onto the floor where it puddled between her feet.“Are you okay?” I asked, as she lay prostrate over the blanket-covered block. She nodded, but said nothing for a moment. Then she whispered.“I didn’t cum! Can you believe that? I didn’t cum once.” She continued to lie over the blankets. “Can you fucking believe that? A fucking horse in my cunt and I don’t get there, what more have I got to do?”Not knowing what else. More

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