You produced a bottle of 10 year old Mccallan from your bag and poured two generous measures as you brushed my right hand. Not your usual tipple I sai.... No, you’d developed a taste for my favourite brand. I kind of liked the old Bushmills, but perhaps some other time. Some Dutch courage I thought and swallowed it in two or three gulps. It stung my throat and you patted my back. A shiver ran down me at your very touch and with a kiss you cupped my beautiful firm ass. Thank God that was over our. The air smelled like pot and perhaps worse. He flashed a $20 bill and was admitted, leading me inside. The door was slammed shut by a very large, very obese bouncer, whose skin was even darker than Ron’s, as if that were possible, and he had gold bling hanging from his neck, and large and gaudy gold rings on most of his fingers. His smile even had a gold tooth in it. His attire was simple athletic pants and a grey tank-top, covered by a matching over-size nylon athletic jacket.The walls inside. More

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