If anything, I remembered less than last time. But I did recall enough to know what a wild party Ms. Martindale and Chief Hunsucker had had.I was back in that chilly soundproof room again. This time, I was lying on the floor. I could feel carpeting beneath my back. I was gagged this time. I was wearing some kind of harness that left my breasts bare, and chains that held my legs in the air so that my feet were near my head. An S & M scene! Yes, Martindale and Company were definitely going for a different kind of thrill. I was terrified.I heard muffled sobbing from somewhere. Finding I could still move my head, I glanced to my right and saw Angel, gagged and bound up in the same position. Our most-girl parts were facing the ceiling. My eyes met Angel's, which flashed back at me a look of furious smoldering hatred. I could tell it wasn't me she hated.Who was sobbing? I wondered. It wasn't Angel. I looked down the length of my body and between my upraised legs I saw that infamous bed in. They look like they just up and walked out of a lingerie catalogue. So as we entered the booth, I couldn’t help but fall prey to that common mistake and wonder if she got turned on dancing for people. I can’t imagine she did, doing it day and day out, for anyone who asked. But we all like to think we’re the exception, right? The leopard print beanbag chair inside was huge and we slumped down into its plushness. I thought we might sink in and disappear but it held us both side by side. I giggled at Brad who was trying so hard to pretend he was completely put out by this. Closing the curtain behind her, she wasted no time and began. I was completely unprepared. What I imagined they would dance like was completely different than real life. Especially in private and so not like it was on stage. The gentle sway of her hips, the gyration of her pelvis and the smooth gliding touch of her hands against her own breasts had me growing moist between the legs before the first minute elapsed. I.
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