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Michelle was choking on her soda and before she could clear her throat enough to question Helga, the black-clad Mistress had restored her composure. Michelle smiled at Greg, confident he was going to get his due. Helga uncoiled the whip and let it slide over her tanned legs. Greg ended up being aroused by her sensual motions while at the same time ending up being frightened at the thought of her using it on him. The scream Helga let out surprised Greg and Michelle to the point that they were able not to laugh at her.

Helga dropped the whip and stomped over to her toy table, her eyes bold Michelle to comment. She selected a little black pouch and walked over to Greg, self-confidence flashing on her face. She grasped his cock and rubbed it a few times to solidify it. She strapped the bag over his cock and over his balls, attaching him down firmly. She went back to admire her handiwork and frowned. Michelle was about to comment when Helga swore and tore the upside-down cockbag off and threw it across the room. Michelle felt a minute of pity and waited for Helga to go back to her toy table. While Helga was picking a brand-new toy of discomfort, Michelle wrapped her ruby lipstick lips around Greg shandy tool and drew softly.

Helga agreed because she was hoping that sex might wipe out Michelle's memory of her genuine nature. Michelle agreed to herself due to the fact that she was extremely randy and had not had sex in at least four hours. Greg pulled Michelle's lightweight excuse for a swimsuit top off and aimed his mouth for her tanned silver dollar size nipples. Greg pushed Michelle down to her back and parted her legs with his thighs. Well, he thought he was parting Michelle's legs but in reality Michelle's legs quite much part on their own.

At this moment, a black-clad shadowy figure stepped through the basement window and concealed behind a group of boxes. You could inform she was female by her bosom which ruined any opportunity of her being discreet. Her sparkling Asian eyes looked from her mask while her beautiful black hair fell around her shoulders, unconcerned to any sound judgment regarding hair buns on Ninjas. She cursed as she saw that her target was at the bottom of a squirming pile. A razor-sharp metal pointy thing was in her hand, all set for the first clean shot on the young whorehouse madam. Nevertheless, since she was here, she might also masturbate while she waited. She slipped a gloved hand into her tights and began fingering her slit in the darkness.

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