Chick From The Piano Bar

She used the same two fingers from which she dangled her Parliament Cigarette to spread her lips slowly apart.

"Don’t be afraid, it’s not going to hurt you," she explained with a smirk across her other lips.

"Just shut up and lay there, I’m paying you well!" I said.

My mind raced for an image of something that would turn me on.

Eventually I settled on pretending to be in bed with Brad Pitt and Eminem.

It can’t be that difficult to get it off inside her, I thought, as I completed the act which could lead to a pregnancy and permit me to inherit my father’s fortune.

She lit another smoke after I planted my seeds and slowly wiped my lipstick from her crotch.

I nearly fainted when she wiped between her legs with a towel.

I cried "Don’t do that, leave it there…how many times do you expect me to go through with this?"

"Don’t worry, girl! I got you," assured my new wife and best friend from the gay piano bar.