Recruitment Specialist Chapter 9
Clarissa headed back to her room after her sunscreen application session with the volunteer. He fulfilled his duties, while she finished hers with a humorous blowjob. Checking her mirror, she observed her breasts, which were now turning into a beautiful golden tone as the tan lines faded. Hoping Mr. Manfredi would approve, she was satisfied with her new appearance.
The computer's indicator kept blinking, and she realized she had been booked two weeks in advance for appointments with different voyeuristic gentlemen who had admired her by the pool.
Clarissa never anticipated this but realized it was a result of the volunteers from the assistant auction, from the highest bidders right down to the lowest. Currently in the Recreational department, she was kept busy with daily and nightly "research".
Over the next few months, Clarissa mastered adapting to her patrons' demands, switching from one department to another.
During her first assignment in Food Services, she was assigned to a position in the pool-side refreshment waiting. Her attire included standard heels and green bikini bottoms. Her hair was pulled back in a bundle on her head, and she wore her sun-screen makeup. All these enhanced her sensual beauty, making her an object of desire.
Her coworkers taught her additional beauty tips, highlighting her sex appeal. Clarissa, who already received numerous encounters from the male guests, became more popular. They assured her that no one would refuse the gentlemen guests, but the safety protocols would eliminate the extremists.
Renee Rousseau and Pierre Jerome were lying down soaking at the pool and appreciating the stunning ladies at this luxurious resort, beneficiaries of their consultant's business, Damien Deville, a VIP member. It seemed that no request, sexual or otherwise, could get denied.
Clarissa distributed the drinks as she approached the men in their swimsuits, dancing around the patrons, handing out drinks, and following the men's stories of their conquests the previous night. She was almost unsteady, but managed to keep her balance as she delivered the drinks the last man at the end of the table.
However, something caught her toe, and she stumbled forward. Her tray burst and carved through the drinks, drenching the man in the last chair. A shoe suddenly retreated across the deck.
"Hah! Gotcha'! You'll cool off that overheated prick of yours."
Clarissa apologized and assured she'd get him more cocktails shortly. She retrieved towels and cleaned his crotch. As she bent forward, she was spanked on her bottom. Accepting it as her duty to please, she returned to obtain new beverages. "Wow! What a pair of tits and a spankable ass. I wonder if she's available for me tonight?" Damien pondered.
As the waiting day wound down, she returned to her room. Her computer signaled a new message. Her schedule had been adjusted.
A romantic dinner date was on the cards. Her clothes and accessories were laid out and ready. She should shower, style her hair, and be prepared by 7 for her bellhop escort.
The clothing seemed normal, but she had to wear more. A knee-length pleated cotton skirt, a button-down shirt, sensible heels - not her usual lingerie. The panties were loose and lacy, while the bra was a bronze-toned silk. The cups were translucent, her nipples prominently seen through the gentle material. This was odd, given that a date requires something seductive. However, she obeyed.
Clarissa was completely set up at 7, with her bellhop announcing her dinner guest. He was familiar with her as he had chosen her before. He was not cruel but rather firm. He suggested one final accessory beforehand.
From the dresser, he drew the golden choker, cuffs, and a leash. Once attached, she was guided to the location.
The bellhop double-checked, smoothing wrinkles on blouses and straightening hemlines. Once satisfied, he knocked twice, heard a pause, then opened the door. Inside, Clarissa prepared a cheery grin for her first introduction. The bellhop unfastened her leash, signaling for her to enter.
Inside, the frequent smoker's scent hit her first, followed by the soft flickering light from a fire dancing on walls lined with rattan. It was dimly lit, with the only brightness coming from the fire in front of her. Three half-naked men lounged in chairs and sofas, their surroundings adorned with various whips and switches, along with heavy chains hanging from ceiling hooks.
Mr. Jackson had mentioned, "This marks the beginning of an exciting journey. Although it may seem challenging, you'll be safe here and not harmed, or at least not too much, and never unnecessarily."
She shook her head, wondering how much didn't equate to "unnecessarily" and when.
The men stood and sent the bellhop away. "We'll take it from here."
A disheveled guy, who mistakenly tripped her poolside, led her toward the firelit open space.
This self-proclaimed poolside fanny whacker wore black spandex shorts with a conspicuous hole for his private parts. She glanced at the dress contrasting her own casual appearance. What counted as 'Romance' at this fancy resort seemed unconventional.
A woman spoke, "Pierre, don't be greedy. We should all share her."
He dragged her into the spotlight, shouting, "So, meet our problem drink server. The drunk-prone Clarissa."
Recognizing the guy who caused her fall, she realized how it all began. Pierre led her toward the front, introducing her.
"I'll introduce you to the real Nicole, the mean one who made you fall."
The third man laughed, "Okay, my turn. Let's see what you get."
The tall, lean man with grey temples and close hair stood. Having seen him with swim trunks at the pool, Clarissa noticed he, too, donned spandex shorts with a large gap in the crotch, showcasing his ample package.
Finding her new shoes on the floor, she passed one over her head, strapping it onto her foot, and finished with the other. She twisted her ankle, testing her balance, and gazed at her elevated feet, admiring the stilettos.
Pierre grabbed her forearm, holding her steady as Damien unbuttoned her top, one by one, detaching it from her body. With the two flaps hanging down, her belly button and bra were partially visible. Pierre turned to Renee, offering her the shears.
"We need to switch out these neck and wrist adornments. They won't be strong enough."
He let go of her arm, and she was left standing alone in the center.
Renee got the shears, grabbed her skirt by the waistband, and, in one swift tug, ripped the modest attire from waist to hem. It fluttered to the ground.
Handing the scissors back to Pierre, he continued, "Your turn, sport."
Damien pushed her forward, and Pierre wrapped his hands around her elbows, pulling firmly enough to bend her at the waist. He fastened the shears and snipped away the blouse's buttons, tearing it open from collar to waist. The crumpled fabric obstructed her upper body.
"How would you like your drink now, Nicole?" Renee asked.
Pierre released Clarissa and clunked the shears onto the ground. "Sounds like she's open to anything — better make her like it."
Clarissa turned, her eyes locked on Damien's, and he chuckled at her misfortune - his perverse joke. "Come, Miss, let's see what other tricks I have for you."
Renee held out the shears, instructing him to remove the skirt. "Here you go. Cut that off."
Pierre grappled with her waistband, then ripped it from torso to hem. The material spread and floated through the air on its way outside. Pierre laughed, scoffing, "Now you're naked - it's time for my speciality."
General consensus filled the room as Pierre proceeded with his task. He brought forth two wide, thick leather straps with stainless steel attachment rings. He discarded the decorative restraints and fastened the harsh play accessories in their place. His voice was unwavering, the kind that's used to being obeyed without question.
"Lift your hair."
Clarissa complied, gathering her hair at the back of her head. Pierre loosened her gold choker and replaced it with a large leather collar with metal rings embedded all around its circumference. The neck device was tall enough to force her to keep her head high. Next, he removed her gold hoop earrings and fastened gemstone studs in their place.
"No point in tearing skin while passion is at its peak."
Clarissa tried to tilt her head to investigate how that could occur. When Pierre noticed her movements, he slapped her behind as a warning.
"Don't move!"
Now positioned facing the two observers, she looked vulnerable in her damaged blouse, heels, leather bands, and sheer undergarments. It was a typical fetish fantasy - a combination of rough and soft elements.
Pierre clipped her wrists behind her back and connected the rings. As she struggled against her restraints, he gave her a warning slap on her rear.
"Stay STILL!"
Renee prepared to claim the next role. He grabbed the dress scissors and cut the blouse sleeves from collar to cuff. Once both sides were free, he dumped the severed top over the chairs.
The leather-and-lace fantasy was now complete. Renee passed the scissors to his associate.
"Damien, it's your turn now. Show us what you have."
Damien stepped forward, waiting for her eyes to lock onto his.
"Care to look at me?"
She did, and he noticed the faintest trace of fear in her gaze. 'Perfect,' he thought. 'Nice to have some anxiety involved.'
The sharp scissors approached her face, then slid down to her shoulder. She could barely turn her head as she observed him snipping the bra strap. The elastic strap stretched tight before snapping apart. The back section fell over her shoulder, while the front piece remained on her chest, weighing it down and causing her boobs to tilt unevenly.
A sense of relief washed over her as she realized her earlobe was spared from any damage. The cut strap's bounce may have snagged the gold hoop, possibly tearing it off.
Damien grinned at her sigh and adjusted his grip, maintaining eye contact. The cut took longer this time, building anticipation. The snip... the break... the sinking of her chest... both breasts were now even.
However, the front of the bra remained in place. Damien hesitated and set aside the scissors. He could unclip the back strap, but that gentleness would be out of place in this intense stripping.
Instead, he pinched the middle section between the cups. He grasped the connecting strap... and yanked hard. The weak plastic hooks and eyes parted, freeing the straps, and allowed the bra to fall off naturally.
The bra disintegrated, leaving her well-endowed boobs exposed. Damien relished the moment while taking note of the size tag.
"36C," he announced.
Selfishly, he remained near her and examined her intimate areas. He grasped the lacy panties' waistband and pulled them up briskly, causing the side seams to rip. He dragged the underwear across her delicate pussy lips towards her stomach, leaving a slight red mark behind.
She winced from the sudden jerk and awkward scraping. The torment quickly faded as Pierre led the trio in a circle around her. Three sets of hands traced over her body, probing, feeling, and exploring her features. They squeezed her tits, manipulated her ass cheeks, slapped her back, and massaged her belly and thighs. Finally, they stood back and ceased their examination.
"Time to dress her."
There were some peculiar men at the high-class resort, but Renee knew that wealthy men have their likes and it was her job to just play along.
Renee left their circle to catch a glimpse of their hidden bits. Not one of them was hard yet. Most men would be rock-solid just thinking about the imminent sexual interaction. But not these guys.
Without clothing, Renee expected to feel chilly. However, the warmth from the fireplace in the luxurious room remained comfortable.
Renee came back into the room, just as limp as her company. She picked up an armful of red and black fabrics and dropped them on the ground.
He spared some time going through them, selecting the largest piece. As she looked at it, she saw it was a red satin corset with a mid-length skirt beneath. The skirt went from waist to hip and opened down the middle.
Renee asked one of the guys for aid, and the two men stood on either side. They pulled the corset open and she saw that it had several eyelets towards the bottom. Then, they stretched it over her ribs and stomach. Pierre and the other guy tightened it up, covering her stomach. Damien, the one sitting down, instructed them on how to fit it better.
"Make sure it's not too tight, guys. She needs to breathe, and she might be panting or gasping later."
Finally, they were done attaching the corset, which was just below her breasts now and terminated at her hips. The skirt opened properly, completely obscuring her vagina.
Clarissa looked around the room, noticing the exposed penises were growing harder.
Renee then grabbed a large piece of black fabric. It was a black satin blindfold that she had seen often in the past. She folded it a few times, rendering it gradually opaque.
"One last view," Renee said, referring to the men's faces and her own human form.
Covering her eyes, her last glimpse was of the men's astonished faces, her sparkling eyes, and the interior of the chic room. Her eyes were then covered by the thick satin material, and a bow was tied at the back to secure the blindfold. Her hair was also trapped in it.
Renee's gut was filled with fear. But she remembered Mr. Jackson's words: "You're strong and capable of accomplishing this. Pay attention to their instructions. Follow their instructions! Go and be a good girl."
Renee shoved her fears aside, focusing on being a good girl for now. She could sense the men's excitement from the way they touched her body. Her chest, back, and arms were explored, her breasts being given the most attention. The nipples were gently fingered, twisted, and kneaded, sometimes in a painfully arousing manner, resulting in involuntary shudders and gasps. Some fingers explored her vagina and her clitoris, making her almost climax. But the exploration ended abruptly.
She felt someone pick her up and wiggle her hair-covered head. They were bringing her to a kneeling position on the floor, her upper body raised to face them. The collar held her mouth shut, hinting at the upcoming ordeal.
Renee had a daily massage appointment with one of the physical trainers at the resort, a small, blonde woman named Elsa. They often chatted about work, and Elsa had told her about how to tease men with a 'reluctant' blowjob - a technique she was an expert in.
Renee considered it a good time to try out Elsa's advice.
A manhood prodded her parted lips. Some men would suck it in without hesitation, allowing him to penetrate her lips. But Renee stood her ground.
The manhandled her by pressing harder on her lips, until they accepted his penis. Another lip-teasing maneuver paid off. Renee gave a subtle indication that she was ready to welcome him. Immediately, the man's shaft entered her mouth and she couldn't resist the impulse to nibble his crown. She heard him hiss in pleasure. Elsa had been right about the efficacy of this technique.
A hand rested on her hair, applying pressure. She maintained close oral pressure as a cock penetrated deeper, inches away from touching her tonsils. His pubic hair pressed against her nose. He had completely entered her. She moved her rough tongue across the sensitive underside of her male intruder.
His moans of pleasure sparked her enthusiasm. He moved smoothly back and forth. She aided his climax with her tongue action - tip and flat - and twists of her mouth, all limited by the leather collar. His moans and breathing grew in intensity, and a flood of semen released from the tip of his penis. She tasted the first of what she suspected would be many more doses of sperm throughout the evening.
He pulled his cock out after his ejaculation, getting used to the pleasure of her tongue swallows. Then he left.
She received her expected two more doses of white, pearly goo. The routine was the same, but the size of the next cocks increased. The third one was quite large, bumping her tonsils and almost poking her nose, firmly inserted into his groin tuft, reaching the limit of her penetration. Despite this, all the men - the last one she thought was a man named Damien - found completion of their orgasms.
"Let's take a brief break before continuing."
So, as she assumed, it would be an all-night event. She was assisted in shuffling to the floor next to a chair. The seated man let her lay her head on his bare thigh. His hand touched her ear and cheek gently. She thought her performance had been satisfactory. Her ears heard faint snoring, so maybe the men were tired. But she was mistaken. A voice awakened the others.
"Anyone up for some pussy action?"
There was a general murmur of agreement. Clarissa was also woken up from her relaxed state. She was pulled across the floor by her arms to the center of the carpet. Her exposed skin felt the warmth of the nearby fireplace.
She was laid down and hands adjusted her body, getting her into position. A foam pillow for sex was placed under her butt, and her cuffed hands were placed, palms down between her butt cheeks and the booster. This elevated her hips, making for easier access and penetration.
Her breasts drooped on her chest. Someone pulled aside her skirt split, exposing her upturned hips and plump pussy. Her knees were lifted and spread, her shoe heels planted firmly into a wide stance on the carpet. She was in the perfect position for missionary-style sex.
She felt a breath on her clitoris. A tongue explored her inner folds, flicking tiny butterflies and lapping from top to bottom. Her thighs twitched small wiggles, and her throat murmured with a whimper. The unfulfilled finger foreplay was still present in her vagina.
The tongue delved in and went crazy, flicking, sucking, and kissing her clit. A finger entered there again, finding the previously confirmed cluster of nerves. It pressed and rubbed.
She lost control and thought she might lose her mind from the brain-deadening full-body orgasm. In the distance, she heard laughter as she returned to reality. But it wasn't far away; it was as close as her trio of handlers.
"Anyone think they can beat that?"
"I'll give it a shot. But it won't be pussy licking."
Even with the blindfold, she sensed the change in light as a big body hovered over her. Her lips were met with a gruff kiss from the man, more for dominance than romance. His lips moved down to her breasts, kissing, sucking, nibbling at her nipples, causing her to wriggle and shimmy her breasts to his amusement. He stopped and moved down to kneel upright between her legs.
The side slaps on her breasts were unexpected and sent them bouncing across her chest in waves, accompanied by his laughter. The swats continued for several times on both sides, apparently achieving his goal. She felt him position his groin against hers. The tip nudged at her wet opening. Feeling his alignment was correct, he pushed his enlarged head and rigid shaft into her and slid it all the way in.
This was the first cock of the evening to enter inside her female opening. She evaluated the three sizes that had been in her mouth and thought this one was about in the middle. 'Pierre', she thought, if she remembered correctly. He was slower now after his previous discharge, moving slowly and steadily for long strokes.
She felt comfortable with this slow fuck rhythm after the conclusion of the rough foreplay. If her arms weren't limited, she might have circled his neck and shoulders in a lover's embrace.
But he was in control. His hands gripped her hips, steadying the movements. She tried to help with counter-moves, but the best she could achieve with her restraints were vaginal tightening.
This sex session was drawing to a close. He sped up, grunted and gasped, held deep breaths, and cried out as his cum shot out and into her female receptacle.
He finished his movements with a slight shake and then leaned forward, resting his weight on her and capturing her lips with a kiss. She must have appreciated his performance, as she provided a thank-you kiss regardless of whether he deserved it or not. She hadn't reached climax from his oral skills but it was part of her duties. Her lack of reaction didn't go unnoticed.
The light increased slightly through her blindfold as he stood up, but she was still unable to see properly. She heard the chair and cushion creak as he settled onto the seat.
"Haha, Pierre. You finished already? She didn't cum!"
Damien's deep voice gave some advice.
"No bragging, Renee. You didn't cum either just with your cunnilingus."
The younger man seemed a little defeated, a blow to his ego.
"Alright, Damien. Show us what you've got."
"Fine. Sit down, watch, and learn."
She heard the chair creak as he got up to take his turn. She felt the lingering arousal in her vagina, hoping Damien would complete the unfinished cycle. She felt his hand grip her upper arm and he pulled her up, allowing blood flow back to her previously compressed limb.
It was a short walk to the wall. He undid the cuff rings and let her arms dangle until the blood returned to them.
She was turned to face him, and her back pressed against the unfinished wooden wall. Her left arm was thrust out to the side, shoulder height. A click signaled the removal of his grasp. She pulled and noticed that the cuff was attached to the wall. Her right arm was elevated to the opposite side.
His hand went underneath her thigh, lifting it up. She raised the chosen leg and left it resting on his hipbone. The skirt fluttered open, exposing her bare thigh. Despite the comfortable temperature in the room, she felt a coolness against her swollen pussy.
He was the same height as her in her high heels, his height complementing her own. His mouth met hers in a gentle kiss, his hands exploring her breasts. He squeezed and kneaded, a series of tight and loose grips.
This kiss was sensual and moist. A tongue tip joined with an identical one, adding more excitement to her already eager pussy.
He moved away from her mouth and chest. A hand returned to her thigh, hoisting it higher on his hipbone. Her other leg was in a clawing, digging position, trying to embed herself deeper onto his cock and pressure her clitoris against him. Her entire body was throbbing with nervous energy.
His hips moved, and she felt his dick touch her labia. His tip pressed against her opening and paused. She shifted her hips in frustration. 'Come on already' she thought, 'fuck me!'
Her demands and impatience did not aid her; he held back still.
Suddenly, he thrust forward, plunging his cock completely into her wet, ready vagina. He struck her cervix as he grinded against her pelvic bone.
Clarissa screamed.
It felt incredible.
Her body jerked and trembled, caught in her restraints and Damien's embrace. Her raised leg became fully extended; her other leg clamped down, trying to force herself deeper onto his cock, while rubbing her clitoris against him at the same time. And all the while, electric sparks of incredible pleasure radiated through her pussy and spine.
Colours flashed and danced before her blindfolded eyes. Her unstoppable screams of ecstasy morphed into gasping moans of rapture as her body relaxed, slumping against the wall and dangling from her tensed arms and Damien's supporting ones. If not for the collar around her neck, she would have lowered her head.
She heard Damien's admonition, reminding his partners of their earlier conversation.
"That's why we don't tie the corset too tight; she needs to breathe during her sex."
There was a murmur of realization.
Clarissa was a limp body in his grasp when he retreated and then thrust again, more gently. He wanted to enjoy the warmth of her body while his penis was enveloped in her luscious flesh.
His hand gripped her raised leg, maintaining it on his hipbone. He wrapped the other around her lower back. He repeated a slow rhythm of thrusts, stimulating her G-spot. She found new energy, swallowing each 'yip' of pleasure and matching it with a dance of her hips.
Damien was also feeling energized. The sensations on his penis were amplified by the vocalizations from his standing lover. He was starting to reach the point of orgasm, one cycle at a time, stopping for a moment to slow down before increasing his pace. (1, 1)())
Eventually, his thrusts became unstoppable and he reared up, exploding into the waiting receptacle. He let out a groan of pleasure through the discharge and heard the echo of her second orgasmic cry that burst from her throat as she shuddered in his arms under the power of his ejaculations.
Both of them collapsed in exhaustion. He let go of her, dropping her leg and stepping back after losing his balance. The skirt fell back into place. But the milky treasure of both men leaked from her stretched vagina, dripping and dribbling down her inner thighs beneath the pleated skirt fabric.
Damien stumbled to his seat while Renee and Pierre untied the suspended woman's arms and guided her to collapse in a pile in the center space. The fireplace's glow continued to warm the area as her passion heat slowly dissipated.
The night was not over. As each man regained strength, they approached Clarissa, where she lay. She sucked or fucked whichever one called for it, however they wanted it: missionary, doggy, or, when dragged, to sit cowgirl in their lap, either on a chair or on the floor, front or back. At some point in the night, the blindfold disappeared.
Her cheek lay on a bare thigh where she had rested after delivering her owner his slow blowjob. It seemed to take forever. He was tired but wanted to show off his masculinity. The others didn't care; they were beyond any need for gratification.
Eventually, she felt the trembling in her mouth, sucked hard, and drew out the last tiny bit of Renee's reserves. The man's balls were empty and she heard him snoring before she finished swallowing. She fell back on her knees and thighs and fell asleep with her cheek on his hairy thigh.
She was dozing. A beam of sunlight crept over her sleeping eyes. A small window high on the wall showed the light of dawn outside the building. She gently lifted off his legs and crawled to the center. One of the others, Damien, awakened. He looked at her, also awake, and left to open the door.
"We've finished with her. Come pick her up."
His voice woke the other two and she feared more abuse. But they yawned, stretched, rubbed their eyes, and heard their stomachs growl with hunger.
Clarissa took the lead to stand. Her satin corset was none the worse for the wear. Her heels, cuffs, and collar were still intact. Her pummeled pussy and handled breasts felt tender. There was a knock on the door.
Damien pressed the door lock button and beckoned Clarissa to approach. Her corset showcased her amazing breasts and the skirt rattled closed but revealed a bit of thigh with each alternate step. She stopped beside him.
A bellhop entered, professionally attending to the gentleman's needs.
"Take her back to her room after she gets something to eat. It will provide her with much-needed nourishment and thin out her stomach full of cum."
"Yes, sir."
"Wait!"
It was Renee quickly returning.
"She is not ready yet. A few more adjustments first."
He rummaged through a drawer, pushing aside various cuffs and collars, digging deep to retrieve his desired item.
He pulled out a six-foot chain leash. Hurrying back, he clipped it to her collar and passed the lead to the bellhop. Then the client gently took hold of the skirt fabric at the corset connection and tore it off in four powerful tugs.
Clarissa now stood in a red satin corset, handcuffed, collared, leashed, bare-assed with remnants of dried cum visible on her completely exposed vagina. The stiletto heels were a beautiful complement.
"And, one more thing..."
He pulled her wrists back and attached the cuffs together.
"Okay, now go the long way home and give the guests a little treat for their eyes."
"Yes, sir."
She took a step forward, following the leash as the bellhop took up the slack. The sound of the crack as Renee slapped her ass was loud and the impact was hard enough to make her stumble a step before regaining her balance. He chuckled at his parting joke.
"Just be a good girl, okay..."
She continued walking, but before the door closed behind her, she heard Damien's serious voice.
"Renee, I know you're my client and a good one. But we need to discuss your attitude as my guest. Management could ban you from future visits if..."
The door closed and she couldn't eavesdrop on the rest of the reprimand.
The bellhop followed his instructions. She was led through the pool deck where morning exercisers practiced. They stared as she passed. The garden paths and rounded hallways had fewer people, but she still received her share of comments.
"Damn... fucked hard and put away wet, huh... come by my room later... what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"
The last one ended with a deep belly laugh. This public humiliation was so demeaning but she couldn't complain; it was part of the deal.
Upon arriving at the employees' dining hall, the limo driver undid her constraints but passed her the leash prior to his exit.
"Here you go. Comes with the entire package."
The woman consumed her meal devouringly. A superior approached her, bringing up her weight and physical requirements. Clarissa shared details of her encounters with the three men, and the understanding manager fetched another plate for her.
She retreated alone to her room, discarding her corset, neck accessory, and bonds. She could've easily exited later through the simple lock door during her unforgettable BDSM experience. However, Clarissa was obedient and simply obeyed the orders given.
As the saying goes: That which fails to destroy you strengthens you.
This morning, Clarissa Connors was significantly more resilient than before, enduring through and, crucially, not abandoning her 24-hour orgy.
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Madam Inanna's Life in FLR Continues: Part 2
- Day Two of The One-Way Voyage
- Julie Attends a Wedding: Part 12
Source: www.nice-escort.de
