His friends were seated on the hotel furnisher. There was a couch, a stuffed chair, a dining table with some chairs around it. Jerome introduced me to his 2 friends; I forgot their names now. They looked like they were drooling. Jerome asked, “Hi baby, you want to smoke some shit?” Jerome didn’t smoke nor did either of his friends. They were smoking some weed as the odor permeated the room. I sat at the table barely dressed, my sun skirt riding high on my thighs. My perky, stiff nipples were poking through the thin material. Jerome handed me the pipe and lit the bowl for me.” AUHHHH”, I fell into my own state of being. Eyes closed enjoying the immense feeling, the rush, the warmth throughout my body, the warmth deep in my stomach and groin. Jerome stood up behind me. He placed his hands to my shoulders and asked, “How was that baby.” My head fell back into his lap. Eyes shut; all I could do was say, “aauuuhhhhh.” Jerome’s hands fell down the front of me, to my breasts. The thin. Before leaving, I dutifully checked my owner's blog. There was a new picture of a fuckpig I had never seen before. She was fit and blond and smiling directly at the camera. She had the usual FUCKPIG stenciled across her chest. She also had something written above her pussy. I had never seen this before. When I looked closely, I could see the "#2" had been written on her vulva, probably with a black sharpie. I wondered what that meant for a few seconds, then I looked at the clock. I was running late. I logged off and grabbed my collar and car keys. I was wet as I pulled my car in to the space in front of the motel door. Room 124. I still remember the number. I checked my make-up in the rear-view mirror, then picked up my collar from the passenger seat and buckled it around my neck. I stepped out of the car and walked up to the door, holding my purse in one hand. I knocked once and the door opened immediately. There was my owner. He was about six feet tall and looked to be in his.
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