2
Micah
“More, my lord?” the red-haired girl asked. She knelt on the edge of my black chaise lounge and ran a finger over my bare chest.
“Yes,” I said, my voice low.
Wearing a seductive smile, she stepped away from the chaise lounge and strolled to the bar on my right. She poured me another double shot of whiskey, while the other girls—a blonde, a brunette, a black, and an Asian one—danced three feet from me. Danced was a nice way to put it. Dressed in nothing more than scant tops covering only their n*****s and long, flowy skirts with several slits from top to bottom, they kissed and touched each other, moving their hips as if they couldn’t wait to get some.
For a few seconds, I became aroused and considered joining them.
But only for a few seconds.
Then the memories came crashing
