Where the hell is a mirror in this freakshow cabinet? I also need some clothes if i need to go home. I sit on a computer desk, pushing those keyboards...and mouses away. I might not remember the previous night, but the hell with it."That is 'like an answer', Rick. How do I look?"He looks at me, puzzled, and says something to himself. Something about programming and priorities, whatever."I need a mirror, is my makeup, my hair, okay?"He sighs, and looks for one. "While you're at it, get me my. . I'm . . . I'm . . ." I tried to tell him that I was coming, but the ecstasy gagged my words. Still, he seemed to get the picture, and I felt his tongue move against my hole—inside my hole. "FUCK!" I cried. My entire body tensed, and I exploded in orgasm, my legs and hips moving spasmodically. My moans became sobbing breaths, and my hands clambered for him—anything. I almost didn't feel him lift me and carry me onto the bed. Hell, I'm not even sure how he did. C'mon, you're. More

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