<strong>Dean "The Kid" Logan - Late Sunday Night - Brothel Room 1</strong><br/><br/>He smiled as she stripped, putting on a show for him. She seemed to be enjoying herself, which was unusual as she must have done this plenty of times before. Maybe it was because he was a new client? It would be like the first time again, her body on full display for a brand new stranger. He could feel the blood pumping to his groin as she revealed her breasts, causing it to pulse slightly.<br/><br/>It stopped as she crawled onto the bed, though. That nervousness began to return, that worry that he wouldn't be able to perform. As she leaned in he pressed his lips back, his tongue barely grazing her lips. His eyes closed, and soon enough the world began to flood away.<br/><br/>The sensation was a bit like when you get a hair cut. Just close your eyes, and you can't even see the woman. Just feel them. He didn't look into her eyes, as she could show disappointment at any time, or make evident that she was merely doing her job. Instead he focused on the gentle caress of her hands and the feel of her warm body pressing and hovering over his. His cock began to pulse once more, and by time her hands had finished everything else, his cock had grown thick, rigid and long.<br/><br/>He was already doing better than last night.<br/><br/>"<strong>Should I get that last spot or turn you over?</strong>"<br/><br/>He kept his eyes closed, knowing that if he opened now he'd lose his (sort of) relaxed state. He'd get nervous again. So he simply stared into the dark of his eyelids, smiling as he nodded. "Get that last spot..." he said quietly. As if on reflex, his hand slid along her thigh as she straddled him, caressing it gently. She was so soft and warm, it was lovely.