The room she had identified as thecash room was on the third floor of the six story structure. Slowly, shedescended the stairs, being careful to keep her illusions firm, and hermovements silent. She encountered no one, and that made her nervous.Where was everyone? There should be people here somewhere, so where werethey? When she got to the third floor, she found out.The third floor had undergone some impromptu renovation, with asledgehammer. It was now mostly one large open space, and that space wasfilled with people. There was a deal going down here, and it must havebeen happening since before she arrived. There was definitely someimpassioned debate going on among these people. She sized them up,taking the measure of her opponents. This thing had definitely beensplit into two factions. On one side was a trio of well dressed men, two of whom were holdingbriefcases. They looked like mafia, stereotypical mafia anyway. Thenshe got a good look at the face of one, and saw. "My, my what have we here little pet, something good to eat maybe?"He took the whole length of it down his throat in one gulp. He held the boy deep in his mouth sucking and working on it with his lips and tongue. His cheeks rubbed that hot piece of boy meat inside his mouth as he sucked deeply on it. Jamie started to move his hips in a fucking motion. Phillip stopped. He looked up at the boy standing naked before his chair. "Don't move, Let me do the work here, after all I am the queer not you. You are just a dick that I like to suck. So little one, I want you to stand still like a statue with your hands clasped behind your back and let me suck this sweet little dick of yours just the way I like to do it."Not another word was spoken for the next twenty minutes. The boy stood as still as he could while Phillip gave him the ride of his life. Jamie watched the stupid kitchen clock, shaped like a cat, as it swung its plastic tail back and forth for twenty of the longest and best minutes.
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