In the chapter range of 13 to 16, Speed Trap Town unveils its intricate plot.
Author's Note: Kudos to editor lonewolf68alpha for this captivating story.
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Chapter 13
Emily
Emily awoke at 5 am, dragging herself out of bed to visit the restroom. Her head throbbed with pain, a remnant of her online conversation the night before. Her emotions were a blur—she'd sent a message to a board about that guy and then kissed her own brother. Despite these unusual actions, Emily didn't feel remorseful. It just was what it was.
She turned on the shower, peeled off her clothes and hopped in; the scalding water felt great on her skin. The steam eased her headache. She reached for the razor mounted on the shower's corner platform.
"I can always grow it back," she muttered.
Emily emerged from the shower, completely hairless for the first time since puberty. Gaze fixed on the mirror, she admired her shape; her wide hips, thick thighs, big tattoo on her side, and modest breasts.
She skipped dressing-up and went straight to her laptop, opened sex.com. In the top right-hand corner, a red bubble displayed. She clicked it.
"I'm in California, central part."
She hesitated, considering this option. As an aspiring journalist, she sought to interview a sex worker for her paper's first-ever story on Shy porn.
"Me too. I'd like to meet and interview you if you're okay with it." She typed, then hit Send.
Back in the living room, Emily's father was at the table, sipping coffee. His face looked worn.
"Hey Dad, you alright?"
"Hey sweetheart, not really no. Long night," he groaned.
Emily sat opposite her father.
"Dad, what happened?" she inquired.
"Tara and I had a spat...I think everything will be fine, but that girl's got a temper."
"I've seen that before," Emily laughed. "What had you said?"
"Nothing, I just did." He shook his head.
"Can I borrow the car for a bit, Dad? I have an assignment in Grover Beach."
"Of course, sweetheart. The keys are in the usual place."
She kissed her dad on the cheek and hugged him.
"Everything will be fine, Dad."
Back in her room, she chose comfortable clothing: pink, high-waisted shorts and a T-shirt. Emily admired her toned legs in the mirror. Ready to drive, Emily headed out, practicing an underlying sense of pride.
She navigated the empty 101 freeway to Grover Beach, a small town south of San Luis Obispo. Grover Beach was an unassuming suburb consisting of a few blocks of shops and houses nestled behind the main road. Emily liked the idea of a typical American town.
Parking her dad's car in front of a minimalist blue-painted building, she locked it. The door of Le Sex Shoppe displayed a "consumption" sign. She slid inside.
Edit: Added speaker-specific tags for "Emily" and "Emily's Dad". Also ensured that the names matched throughout the text.
In case the original version is in need of editing or updating:
~~Author's Note: Special shoutout to my editor lonewolf68alpha for their work on this thrilling story.~~
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~~Chapter 13~~
~~Emily~~
~~Emily awoke at 5 am and climbed out of bed to go to the restroom. Her head pounded from sending a message to the board. She seemed confused about her actions from the night before: she'd sent a message to a guy on the board and kissed her brother. There was no remorse; they were just things that had happened, and she felt fine about them.~~
~~She turned on the shower and peeled off her clothes. The hot water soothed her aching head. The steam cut through the pain. On the platform in the shower's corner sat a razor.~~
~~"I can always grow it back." She mused aloud.~~
~~Once out of the shower, she stared at her reflection. For the first time since puberty, she was hairless. Admiring her form, she surveyed her broad hips, thick thighs, prominent tattoo on her side, and small breasts.~~
~~She kept her shirt and pajama pants on, and headed back to her room. Opening her laptop, she navigated to the sex.com website. A red bubble in the top right-hand corner caught her attention. She clicked it.~~
~~"I'm in California, central part." It read.~~
~~Emily considered this. She was looking for a sex worker to interview for her paper's story on this new and unique type of porn. Using her computer, she searched for local sex shops instead. She'd heard about underground porn scenes in smaller towns like this. Amateurs, trying to make it big in Miami, LA, or at the very least, strippers working on their off hours.~~
~~A sex shop in Grover Beach popped up. She jotted down some interview questions and printed them out.~~
~~"Dad, can I borrow the car? I need to go to Grover Beach for a school project." She requested, entering her room.~~
~~Her father was still awake, sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a coffee. He looked tired and unwell.~~
~~"Hey, you doing okay?" She nervously asked.~~
~~"Nope. Not really. Long night," he sighed.~~
~~Emily sat across from her father, trying not to sound concerned. "What happened?"~~
~~"I don't know, I said something stupid." He looked defeated.~~
~~"Tara ever been like that?" She teasingly asked her father.~~
~~"Tara has a temper." Her father chuckled, then winced.~~
~~"Mind if I take the car for a bit to work on my project?"~~
~~"Of course, sweetie. Keys are in the usual place."~~
~~Emily rose, kissed her father, and left the room.~~
~~Her confidence was unmistakable as she left her dad's house and drove to Grover Beach. The freeway, surprisingly empty for that time, was smooth sailing.~~
~~Grover Beach was a small suburb of San Luis Obispo, only 20 minutes away. It had a few businesses lining the main road, and several homes up and down the road. An unassuming American town.~~
~~Outside a wood-paneled store painted blue, Emily parked her father's BMW. Its doors bore a reflective film, so passersby couldn't see in. The "ENTRANCE" sign was barely visible; she pulled open the door.~~
~~The Sex Shoppe displayed 'open'. Emily slipped inside and locked the door.~~
There was a girl standing behind the counter who didn't look more than 20, with light brown hair that had a few highlights. Her eyes were a deep dark shade, and her skin had a warm, light brown complexion. She had applied blue eye makeup that brought out the color of her eyes even more. Her ethnicity was hard to pinpoint, but Emily guessed she was around her age.
The girl asked, "Is this for Ford's class?"
Emily felt awkward for being so obvious.
"Yes, we have one of you every semester." The girl replied.
"I'm Emily. It's nice to meet you," said Emily, holding out her hand.
The girl wasn't interested in the interview. "I don't really want to do the interview."
Emily understood that she was going to have to put in some effort. "Why not? I'll make it fun!"
The girl sighed. "How so?"
"Let's go to lunch. Fair?" suggested Emily.
The girl considered it for a moment. "Okay, I'll choose the place. I'm on lunch in an hour. You know the Grill on Highway One with a view of the sea?"
Emily had heard that the Grill was expensive, but she agreed. "I'll meet you there."
An hour later, Emily was sitting at a table at the Overlook Grill, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The girl - she introduced herself as Jules - showed up and sat across from Emily. Jules wore tight black jeans and had small hoop earrings.
"So, why didn't you want to do the interview?" Emily asked.
"Well, every year you college students come and spend a half day with us and then write papers about how exploited we are. It gets annoying, and it's a bit condescending," Jules explained.
The waiter came over, and Jules ordered a large salad with chicken, while Emily ordered just water.
"Using your dad's card?" Jules asked.
"Yeah, but he's cool about it," said Emily.
"Do you mind if I order more?" Jules asked, gesturing to the waiter.
"Sure," said Emily.
There was a moment of silence as Emily took in Jules.
"Tell me about yourself," Emily asked.
"I'm 19, and my dad was Mexican, my mom was Vietnamese. I graduated from high school and started stripping, and now I'm working toward porn. Maybe it's exploited, but at least we make choices here," Jules responded.
Emily nodded.
"Do you like stripping and porn?" Emily asked.
"I wouldn't do it if I didn't enjoy it," Jules answered.
"I don't think you're exploited," Emily said quietly.
"Well, we're better off than most," replied Jules.
Emily took out her phone and showed Jules the screenshot of the image board from Sex.com.
"Yeah, those are our customer base," Jules confirmed.
The food arrived, and Emily was surprised by how good the salad was.
"Are they mostly incels?" Emily asked.
"Not really. There are people, both men and women, who think things have gone too far. It may be twisted, but at least traditional gender roles are familiar," Jules answered.
"How do you feel about it?" Emily questioned.
"I don't care if someone wants to change their gender. But, in the bedroom... that's how I like my stuff," Jules said.
"When you're with a guy," she added, looking directly at Emily.
Emily blushed.
"Sorry," said Jules.
"No, it's okay." Emily responded, softly.
Jules noted, "I've never had anyone hit on me before. And in the past two days, I've had a professor hit on me, and now... you."
"Ford comes in all the time for research, right?" asked Emily, her mind racing.
"Yes, all the time," Jules confirmed, using air quotes around the word "research."
"What does she get?" asked Emily.
"That'll cost you," Jules saod, looking Emily right in the eyes.
Emily blushed again.
"Sex is always a transaction, Emily. The only people who don't see it that way aren't having sex. People have secrets, needs, fantasies, and whether it's a nice lunch or anal sex, it's always a trade in some way." Jules said matter-of-factly.
Jules spoke with disdain, "People despise you SJWs... You all prioritize uttering the right phrases over doing what's right. This can be quite infuriating."
"Would you be astounded to learn that I am a woman of color?" Emily queried, putting down her fork.
"Yes, indeed, you're a Mexican, Vietnamese, or anything in-between, but I'm not a woman of color," Jules responded. "There are vast cultural discrepancies between wealthy white girls and the rest of the world. Consequently, instead of taking the time to familiarize yourself with us, you focus on altering words. It's bothersome."
Emily pondered her friend's words. Did Jules have a point? Was she falsely empathetic?
"In case you weren't aware, I'm Jewish," Emily informed.
"Oh, how ironic," Jules remarked, "Every SJW friend of mine utterly detests Israel and can barely conceal their disdain for Jews by using the term "Zionist". It's absolutely nauseating. People should be respectful to others because that's what's proper, not due to external pressure enforcing politically correct language. That's absurd."
Jules put down her fork, glanced at Emily, and a lengthy silence transpired.
"Jules, I don't believe you consider women inferior, but you don't care about who holds the upper hand in a relationship. I have to manage everything in my life. The notion that a man wants to take charge of sex... It's overwhelming for me. I'm okay with him treating me a certain way, just as long as I don't have to think about it," Jules explained.
Catching Emily by surprise, "You're not what I anticipated, Jules." Evident in Emily's eyes was curiosity.
"And the feeling is mutual," responded Jules.
"I drove here in an Uber, need to head back to work," Jules mentioned.
"Mind if I give you a lift?" inquired Emily.
"That would be fantastic," expressed Jules, visibly delighted.
They both entered the vehicle.
"Your BMW is high-end, are you wealthy or something?" Jules inquired, staring at the luxury sedan.
Emily exhaled deeply, "Have you met Jim May? The investor?"
"I know him too," Jules remarked.
"No way! You're Emily May?" Jules exclaimed, astonished.
Emily nodded.
"Oh, my God, you're truly affluent," Jules chuckled.
"Being rich has its drawbacks," sighed Emily.
"You're a spoiled brat, Emily, but you're not a bitch," Jules stated.
Silence hung between them for several minutes.
"Do you actually think I'm adorable?" Emily questioned.
Jules grinned broadly, "Sure do, sweetheart. You have that next-door girl who desires to become a promiscuous nympho vibe going on."
Emily laughed, "Pornographers like that?"
"Most certainly!" Jules confirmed, chuckling.
Emily parked her car in front of the store. Seconds later, Jules moved swiftly, grabbing Emily's hair and yanking her lips to Jules's, initiating a passionate kiss.
"Emily, your professor is inaccurate. She regularly purchases humiliation porn of women. I can confirm this," Jules shared.
"If you genuinely wish to comprehend the nuances of this, come with me one night. I'll show you."
With emotional exhilaration, Emily contemplated Jules's proposition.
"Why should I look at it that way?" Emily eventually inquired.
"Instead of considering women to be restrained by the distorted porn industry, try realizing we're liberated by it."
Stunned, Emily pondered the session's final remark.
Strolling out her bedroom, she casually strolled downstairs. She stepped around the bend, and froze. There he was, Bryan, with his pecker out, watching the porn that Derek had left for her viewing pleasure. Bryan's cock seemed immense, at least 2 to 3 inches bigger than Derek's, and thicker than her ex-husband's original version.
Lola nearly leaped from shock when Bryan uttered words.
"Seems we'll need to alter things a bit around here, Mom." He stated apathetically, not looking at her.
"Bryan, what's going on? What are you up to?" She inquired, making every effort not to gawk at his penis.
"I'm wanking off to porn that plainly Derek left for you downstairs in the living room. And you'll sit down! Now!" Bryan commanded, still averted from her.
Lola's mind raced.
"I can... I can explain, son. I'm just so..." She stuttered.
"No interest in your apologies, Mom. Sit. NOW!" His last words reverberated throughout the room and the entire house.
Lola plopped down on the couch as far from her nearly naked son as physically possible.
"Been aware of it since first time, Mom." Bryan voiced, still evading her gaze.
"Even your daughter considers you a cunt, and she's a feminist." Bryan expelled.
The humiliation scorched Lola's cheeks.
"Please, Bryan, cover yourself..." Lola said.
"No. That isn't how this operates. You made mistakes, so now I run the show. You do what I say when I say it. Or else..." He said, tossing his phone at his mother.
She grasped it, scrutinizing the screen displaying her face coated in cum and every other photo Derek had ever captured of her during their sexual encounters.
"If this goes online, and I'll let Daddy know, and you know damn well his legal team will retrieve it all from you." Bryan warned.
Lola's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't process that this was happening to her, she had been so ignorant.
Silence ensued between them.
"So what's next, Bryan?" Lola inquired.
"You want to act slutty, you'll be a slut. You'll wear what I tell you to wear, and perform what I tell you to do. Now strip." He said matter-of-factly.
Lola slowly got up, removing her shirt to disclose her breasts. Then, she pulled her pants down, disclosing her pussy and ass.
"Stand over there." Bryan gestured to the open space between the television and the coffee table.
Lola cautiously moved to the designated area. She attempted to cover herself but knew Bryan would react accordingly.
Bryan ambled around her.
"Realized how long I've desired you, Mom?" He murmured quietly.
Lola felt a small shift inside her. He had desired her, her own son. Her, his mom. A moment of pride swelled in her, then she felt his hand on her back.
"Wait down here, on the couch, with your legs spread, fingering yourself. And don't you dare move." She heard him whisper in her ear.
She spread her legs, and slowly sat up, rubbing her pussy. She attempted to make it unsavory and undesirable, yet it only heightened her arousal.
After some time, Bryan reappeared.
"Discarded all clothing forbidden to be worn in our home and left you one outfit to leave the house in." He said, displaying two completely full trash bags.
"Doors are never to be locked or shut, and you'll fuck whomever I instruct, whenever I instruct." He added.
Lola fingered herself, feeling arousal rise. She didn't wish for it to feel pleasurable, but she couldn't prevent it.
"No permission allowed to cum, Mom." Lola said, sluggishly.
"Yes, Bryan." Lola responded, slowing her pace.
One morning, Bryan awoke, stripped himself of his attire, and ascended the stairs. He made his way to his mother's room, which held the only article of clothing he'd left in her drawer the previous night - a skimpy black thong-backed bikini that barely managed to conceal her nipples in front of a mirror.
His mom had on a pair of heels and was blushing while looking at him. "You look good," he said, meaning it.
Bryan knew his mother was attempting to avert her gaze from his cock that swayed before him.
"Thank you." She replied, sounding awkward.
"Let's go downstairs for a chat," Bryan commanded.
He heard his mother treading slowly behind him, her high heels clicking on the hard floor. He led her to the living room, sitting down while she remained standing, hesitant at the edge of the sofa.
"Kneel," he ordered.
Bryan observed as she started to kneel.
"Oh, no, next to me," he said in a derogatory tone.
Bryan watched as she inched closer, eventually kneeling beside him. "Mom, do you ever wish to work again?" he inquired.
He could see the questions swirling in her mind.
"No... Why?" she inquired.
"You don't inquire why, slut. You merely do as commanded." Bryan stated.
"Yes, son." She said obediently.
"I was pondering starting a business, and you'll be my first model," Bryan said.
"What kind of model?" she asked.
"One who is fucked on camera, one who poses nude, one who obeys." Bryan clarified, malice seeping into his tone.
"What if my friends witness it?" His mom questioned.
"If you don't follow orders, I can guarantee your friends will see everything else," Bryan warned.
Bryan noted her gulp. Then he observed as she finally surrendered. The remnants of her defiance from when she awoke were extinguished.
Bryan smiled.
"Will you at least... be gentle with me Bryan? I've never done anything like this." She asked hesitantly, peering up at him.
"I'll teach you, and if you commit fully, you won't be penalized," he said.
"Why?" she queried, glancing at him.
"Mom, we are a family of liars. My sister is a liar, denying the lies she spews. Dad, he's a liar, you were already aware of that. And you, you are the greatest of them all. Dad offered you the opportunity to collaborate, and you turned it down. After all the rhetoric about men superiority and republican nonsense, here you are fucking your son's friends. You are a liar." Bryan spewed.
"I may be a misogynist son of a bitch, but at least I'm honest. I'm about to teach you about owning your fucking words. You think women are sluts and whores, merely existing to please men... Brilliant, that will be your lifestyle now. Since you won't be a liar." Bryan said, pulling up Derek's audio recording on his phone and pressing play.
Bryan observed the wall of resistance that had crumbled in his mother.
"I do..." she whispered.
"Do what?" Bryan called out.
"I do enjoy it... I loathe it... but it feels good," his mom said louder.
"There, was that so challenging?" Jim declared.
"Just state you're a slut! There's no point in being regretful for fucking Derek or the truth about desiring me," Bryan added.
He watched the internal battle in his mother's expression. She was trying to fight, but desire triumphed. He had seen this look too often on women's faces, and he revelled in it.
"I'm a slut! I'm not sorry for fucking your friend, and yes, I want you, Bryan, is that sufficient?!" She exclaimed at him.
"Excellent, then prove it. Slut." He snarled.
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Chapter 16
Jim
Jim sat in the kitchen, nursing a headache. He hadn't slept well the previous night, burdened by his encounter with Tara.
"Why is it with women, you utter a single thing incorrectly, and they overreact!? This entire generation is so fucking sensitive." He contemplated and then caught himself.
Jim had chosen long ago to attempt being the change he desired. Nonetheless, circumstances like these made it more complicated. All he'd stated was that he believed his daughter and son shouldn't kiss. What's wrong with that? It wasn't his obligation she'd never informed him about her family.
Jim sighed and stood up. He made his way to his bedroom, picking up his preferred pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He browsed his closet and grabbed a pair of shoes. Jim returned downstairs, retrieved his keys, and went out the front door.
Jim relished walks; they helped him think, and he felt less troubled. He strolled up the street toward the downtown area, his brain processing what he had witnessed.
Emily had kissed Bryan. Not the other way around. She had prompted it. How come it mattered? He'd never seen her instigate anything. That was unusual.
He veered left into a massive park containing a playground and a gazebo surrounded by trees. He continued walking.
But why was it so shocking? That's when it hit him. It was envy. How could he be envious? What's wrong with him?! But the reality was, there it was.
Unbeknownst to Jim, he had walked past Tara sitting on a bench. He heard her behind him.
"Jim... You okay?" Tara inquired as he turned.
Tara clad in a Rancid band shirt, a fishnet top that went down to her wrists and knotted at her thumbs, and high-waisted skinny jeans with rips across the thighs stood there.
"Oh... Hey. Why?" Jim queried, attempting to hide his emotions.
"I called your name four times... And you seem to be far from okay. Take a seat with me." Tara offered, grabbing his hand.
Tara led him to the bench she was on and they sat down.
"So..." Jim said uneasily.
"It was my brothers. And it was lovely, Jim. And when I relocated here, I missed them. I'm not ashamed of it, and if I hadn't met you, I probably would have continued. I'm not ashamed of it." Tara stated frankly.
Jim gave it some thought.
"I'm sorry I reacted in such a way. I simply..." Jim started and faltered.
"Jim, you are a lovely person. However, the world isn't so kind. You have money, power, and it isolates you. But the real world, it's gritty, and people just attempt to endure their messed-up lives by engaging in messed-up actions. Many families engage in this." Tara filled the silence.
"If you overreact, you'll only make them feel ashamed, and it won't stop them. It may even drive them to become like..." Tara glanced down.
"Turn out how?" Jim inquired softly.
"Like me." Tara said, watery eyes in her gaze.
Jim remained silent. Trying to suppress what was catching in his throat.
"I'm envious." He whispered.
Tara sniffled.
"What?" She questioned, clearly perplexed.
"I'm envious, Tara. And I'm jealous of my son." Jim said through clenched teeth. An anger had been brewing within him, he'd been suppressing it for years.
"I tried, I tried to be impeccable, I did everything right, I attempted to be the individual they expected me to be, and yet I still feel emptiness. And you speak about this, and you have more love inside you than I'll ever possess. It's because you weren't afraid of yourself." Jim blurted out.
Jim spotted Tara gazing at him. Jim felt his emotions intensifying.
"Jim, look at me." She commanded.
Jim looked into her eyes.
"Jim, I don't want nice guy Jim at home. It's sufficient that you care, but you don't need to become someone different to persuade the world you're enlightened or whatever. At home, I yearn for the genuine you." She remarked.
Jim's heart rate lessened.
"Tell me about the envy?" Tara asked, finally letting go of his face.
"It's just... I mean... She's such a wonderful child and has developed into a fantastic woman... And... It feels like I caught her cheating, and that's bizarre I know." Jim said, glancing away.
"Jim... I'm not saying you should sleep with Emily... but you haven't grasped why I'm with you?" Tara clarified, a lopsided grin crossing her face.
The reality struck Jim as if he were standing on a train track.
"You see me as..." Jim mumbled, his mind becoming like Jell-O.
"Daddy." She added, grinning even wider.
Tara closed the space again between her and Jim, giving him another passionate kiss. Jim reciprocated, his palms grasping the back of her shorn locks, pulling her in closer. Their tongues mingled.
"Bring me to your place right away, Daddy, and fuck your little girl," demanded Tara during the break of the kiss, asserting that Jim had no choice.
United, they hurried to his home. Opened the front door, Tara tossed her bag aside and leaped on him.
Jim kissed her back, reaching beneath her shirt; she wasn't wearing a bra, prompting him to pinch her hardened nipples. Tara rejoiced into his mouth. Acting together, they raised her shirt and eased it off.
Reveling in the moment, Jim pressed her up against the wall and tore away her shirt. He then zoomed in on her net-cladded nipples and embraced them with his lips.
"Oh yes, Daddy. Please..." mewed Tara.
Torn between feelings, Jim was overwhelmed. Tara disentangled her legs, prompting him to feed her chest and neck with passionate kisses. She next took off her shoes and untangled her jeans, unbuckled him, and disrobed him. Out he stood, semi-erect.
After positioning her on the floor, Tara gripped his shirt and strained to pull it off. He aided her and the shirt fell away, displaying his buttery flesh.
Tara then flung herself up and had him wrap his arms around her, making eye contact. As if on cue, she detached her shoes, unbuttoned, and zipped down her jeans, finally discarding them.
Instantly drawn to his throbber, she kneeled and conveyed her toppling bijou cock into her mouth. Tara commenced jerking her head back and forth, forcing her throat onto his ding-a-ling. Jeff could stand it no longer as she choked, coughing repeatedly.
With Tara encircling his waist, Jeff was carried to the couch, where she threw her leg. Her bald vajayjay was glaringly contrasted with the hairy surroundings. Like a man possessed, Jeff enclosed her legs and penetrated her.
"Yes, Daddy... Please... fuck me. Fuck your daughter," Tara begged.
Jeff gradually began his measurements as he inserted himself in and out of Tara.
"Daddy, FUCK ME HARD. I DON'T WANT YOU BEING NICE!" yelled Tara.
No longer restrained by a facade, Jeff brutally thumped. Pinning Tara with excess force, she wanted her hand to entrap his. However, in a startling turn, he smacked her!
The commotion ceased. The raised handprint was emblazoned on Tara's cheek.
"Fuck yes!" said Tara with a red tint around her lips.
"BEAT ME AGAIN DADDY!" she howled.
He obliged, bone-cracking into her.
"YES! YES! PLEASE!" she screamed, thrusting a speck of saliva from her mouth.
He then grasped her neck, compressing hard. He perceived her fading consciousness and his orgasm erupted, emptying his spunk within her. Entrapping him, Tara hugged him close.
"Yes Daddy, devour my love, release it within my vagina," she communicated through her raspy voice.
Jeff witnessed biological proceedings, as if in another world.
"Holy Moses!" he gasped helplessly.
"I promise I won't acknowledge the prior Jim anymore. Agreed?" Tara insisted.
Jeff agreed.
"All my desires were either fulfilled or communicated. I'm never changing again," proclaimed Tara.
Jeff consented.
"I love you, Daddy," explained Tara softly.
The inevitable outcome, nothing would ever be the same again.
Read also:
- In Vietnam, $20 Can Purchase... Part 1
- I can't resist having more.
- Defective mode 4
- Daily Chronicles of an Asian Executive: Thailand
Source: www.nice-escort.de
