I knew Paul,the gym owner was always bragging about how much action he got downstairs,so it made sense.I thought he meant cock though,as he was very c...mp.But each to there own.And he was very muscular,a benefit of owning your own gym,and maybe steroids.So I accepted,but told her I only wanted a massage.I almost regretted it when she came out from behind the desk.She was wearing a very short tartan skirt,and wool stockings up to her knees,and killer high heels.She looked down at my very. After an ice cream cone. We said our good byes. “Please give me your phone numbers, Rob, Sam, Fred, Jeff, Matt, Tim, Lance, Pete. We'll have to have the eight of you over once we get settled in our new home.”All the guys wrote their phone numbers on a piece of paper handing it back to Sandra. She put it in her purse. “Thanks for the exciting time guys. It was a real work out. For you guys playing football that is.” Sandra added.“We better get back to the Motel, I want to shower and. Leading it was a leather wrapped group of bimbos. Their spectacular flesh had been squeezed into corsets that gave them wasp waists halfway between the unbridled blooming of their giant tits and flaring asses. They tottered on high-rising platform boots.They also swayed like accomplished catwalk tigresses.Lindsey McDonald, the Wolfram and Hart newcomer followed them. He was dressed in black and held a leash that was attached to the throat of a masked woman. She wore a corset too. It was flaming. I couldn't see, I couldn't move. I was so tired. I went back to sleep.I snapped awake without moving. Gently stretching, I tried to move, and found myself bound to a table or bed of some sort, hand and foot. Thirsty. I raised my head and looked around. The sheet covered only one leg and my groin. It looked like I was wearing some sort of form-fitting garment that was covered in dark green scales. I felt a shiver cover me and watched the scales over my chest flex. Christ! it was my skin! What.
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