The diagonal sash now draped snugly over a plump over-sized breast instead of the budding teenaged tit she had before. Only the perky beret — perche... on top of her blond head — looked the same. Aroused by her memories, Abby looked down at herself. She ran her hands up her smooth thighs, sliding her fingers underneath the green skirt. I dont have to pick up Emmas Girl Scout cookies for a half hour, Abby reasoned, wiggling her fingers under the elastic waistband of her white panties. Besides, no. But those are not people who would stand up in front of a hundred people to fuck strangers. They don't know my reasons, let alone have the right to judge. Of course I am a sex object. But there is no 'just' about it. I wanted those men to desire me, to imagine themselves between my legs. Some of them were inside my body but I was inside all of their heads. The club did have one rule: every cock on stage had to wear a condom. I dominated them. Every one of the men I pointed to came on stage.. More

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