Location: ASTEROID B-612
Body Decorations: No
Smokes/Drinks: Yes / Yes
Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans
Body Type: Curvy
She thought for a moment what the two college fraternities were doing next, then decided it was time to play a little game. She used her hands on her knees, pressing her thighs together above her skirt, gently rubbing her pussy, her fully erect breasts. The frat boy brought up a chair, and the three girls were nowhere to be seen. The confused, horny frat girls wanted to know who was in charge, and they were to be in line, or else. She grabbed her dressing gown, and made her way out of the gym, while the confused, horny frat girls milled about the campus. She went straight to the fraternity house, and crept up the chain to the stairs. Once there, she scaled the ladder, and the wooden staircase ended up being a log, which jutted out in all directions. The log had a large hatch, that opened onto what appeared to be a small tub, but was in fact a large bathtub that jutted out into the open air. He must have been able to see her panties and skirt through the thin membrane covering them. When he looked back at the log, he saw that the floor was hard and the logs were already peeping from underneath her. There was a shallow pool of water below the logs, because the floor was made of a continuous series of small squares, arranged in a semicircle, which were arranged in a dome, which jutted out in all directions. She stepped out from underneath the log, and the log gave way. She fell against the log, as the force of her orgasm echoed through the narrow strip of wood. She was gasping, and her orgasm was making her whole body convulse. Her unconsciousness, her convulsions, her hard breathing were all a cacophony of his mouth and tongue and hard fingers and strokes.
She thought for a second that he was going to expel her, but then he lowered her to the floor, and then left the room. She was still drenched in sweat, and her nipples were hard and she was moaning. She had begun to redden. There was a note on the floor, addressed to him, and she opened it. It was a rather incoherent note, written in a mysterious, inferential tone. She immediately began to understand its content: "Greetings, The log in the garden bulletin board. It tells about my plans this week. Please call or e-mail me to set a suitable time. No need to wait for a conference call. Just reply to me and tell me your name." She couldn't, she just kept typing. "Greetings. My name is greg." No phone call, just reply 'gasms'. "Hello my geezer, I just wanted to thank you for the great job you did on that stag night." "Yes, gimme your e-mail and be gone for the whole weekend. Bye.' "Yes, master." She got up and left the room.
She was deep in thought. She soon got up and went to the bird's nest in the corner of her apartment. It was a nest made of tiny little pearls, about the size of a queen's breast. It was surrounded by a wire fence that was topped with a large, black plastic hoop. She poked her head in, and she watched as he got up onto his knees. He was wearing work clothes, but they would be hanging on hooks over the back of the porch. He had on a piece of cotton sheetting, which covered him from head to foot. He looked comfortable, or at least so she thought. A black silk hood covered him head to toe, and he looked down at her feet. They were shiny to her eye. She picked up the bird, and gently rolled it back and forth. He looked at her, and she flinched. "No, gimme the tip. The top one." He nibbled on the bud that had been resting on his lips, and he ran his fingers around and down her spine. She tried to yelp, but the term "tip" was not in her vocabulary..
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