Bathhouse (2)

She elegantly pulled out a wet wipe to clean the semen from her skirt, then began cleaning the drool from the back of her feet, playfully scolding, "How long has it been since you've had meat? You're so craving it! Is it tasty?" Seeing my slight embarrassment, she stopped, casually pulling out more tissues to clean my penis. Her long, flowing hair covered half her face, its delicate fragrance wafting in front of me. As I sniffed and watched her slender fingers wiping, I unconsciously became hard again. She scolded, "You're hard again." I complained, "We haven't done the real work yet..." She hesitated for a moment, then said seriously, "Brother, according to the rules, it's over once the customer ejaculates. Brother, if you want to do that, it'll be an extra hour." I thought, since I was already there, I might as well make the best of it and not leave any regrets, so I agreed, but it was 198 for the extra hour.
Seeing her satisfied expression, I suggested we change positions. She obediently lay on her side beside me, draping one leg over me, and brought her high heel to my mouth. With a mischievous grin, she took my penis into her mouth. I held her jade-like leg, removed the high heel, and began sucking on her rounded toes. Her feet were white and soft; whether held in my hands or in my mouth, they felt incredibly supple. As my tongue explored between her rosy toes, she began to swallow my penis greedily. I could feel her arousal...
The overwhelming desire returned, and I slipped my hand under her skirt. Her narrow thong was deeply embedded in her vulva, and she instinctively squeezed her legs together. But I persistently inserted a finger into her vagina, moving it in and out amidst her vaginal fluids. At that moment, I felt a sense of accomplishment. Normally, I'd be looked down upon for even glancing at beautiful women on the street, but this stunning woman, whom I'd only known for 30 minutes, had already violated my body's privacy. I'm sure you all share this feeling of possessiveness.
As my middle finger moved, my thumb began to frequently massage her clitoris. The woman began to moan, even though she was still licking my erect penis. The moans escaping her throat were uncontrollable. Without a word, I lifted her legs and buried my head between them. She stopped oral sex, trying to stop me, but I persisted, pulling down the straps of her thong and frantically licking her labia. "No! What are you doing, brother?" she cried, somewhat bewildered. I couldn't care less. Under the dual stimulation of her tongue and lips, her resistance lessened considerably. She mechanically stroked my penis with her hand, letting out low, suppressed moans. Suddenly, I felt her trembling. I realized she was about to climax, so I leaned over to penetrate her. She hurriedly said, "Brother, use a condom..." I didn't object. As she rolled over to get the condom, I noticed with interest that her clothes were disheveled, her hair messy, and one bare white foot was exposed. Her smooth legs gleamed alluringly under the light. If only I could have all this every day... Alas! I don't have that blessing.

She carefully put on the condom with her slender fingers. I mounted her, folded her legs under my armpits, and tried to penetrate her, but it didn't go in. She then used two fingers to guide her vaginal opening, and with a "Ah..." she inserted them. After dozens of thrusts, feeling unsatisfied, I casually pulled off the condom and thrust wildly a hundred times, a wave of trembling shooting through my spine as I ejaculated deep into her body. I lowered my head, and she tilted her head to avoid me. I persisted, forcing my tongue into her mouth...
After a short rest, she nestled in my arms, her face warm against my chest, as docile as a kitten. I stroked her hair tenderly, and suddenly wanted to say, "Will you marry me?" But then I felt foolish. Girls in the entertainment industry don't trust their clients, and besides, how much confidence could I have? I thought silence was the most appropriate response.
The room phone rang, and she answered it to clean up the mess. We exchanged phone numbers, and her employee number: 69. I chuckled to myself; what a coincidence !
We left the private room and went to the lounge... (To be continued)

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