Smiling, she began to handle those pretty pierced n*****s before them, as she knew must thrill any man. Serene and unashamed, she pulled, pulled, pulled, stretching the things beautifully until her lids fluttered with the joy of it. It felt good, and it was wickedly nice to be on display so, too. “You like that, don’t you?” she wondered.
Breathing heavily, the three men each whispered back desperate agreement.
Smiling, Rachel arched one smoky eyebrow at Paul, the maitre d’. “How long has it been since you’ve touched a girl as young and pretty as I am?” she asked him quietly. The poor man could only lick his lips, trembling.
“Or what about you?” she said, directing her voice at the youthful waiter. “Does that wife of yours still do this for you?” Stretching the crinkled points of her hi
