The living room of the Smith mansion was a nocturnal spectacle. The lights were off, but you could see small and large spotlights stuck to the ceiling and a huge balloon hanging in the middle. Additionally, there was a dance pole where Kelsea would look exquisite, gyrating her body until she got tired.
"What is this?" she asked, her eyes illuminated as she realized that everything seemed like a private brothel where Smith would be the host.
She looked at her husband, whose dark eyes were filled with desire to see her, and swallowed hard as she realized his intentions. A red tantra chair was in the corner, and the scent of incense was like a drug that made her dizzy.
"I want to be the owner of your most pleasurable desires," he said, biting her earlobe.
Kelsea shivered at her husband's
