Harderidge House is in an authentic Art Deco building, complete with a former speakeasy in the basement. The establishment played to its roots. A litt...e Jazz Age theater was in keeping with the set. Sean went ahead, to the bar. I begged off, to go to the powder room. I think Sean understood that I wanted to make an entrance. I was playing a wanton flapper, and I intended to play it with it with enough ham to make a sandwich. To make my entrance, I splayed my body in the door way, with hands on. It always tasted sweet to her, with an almost syrupy texture. She loved how sticky her breasts always got whenever she drooled all over herself. She shoved her fingers a little more into her mouth, muffled moans echoed around the room. The hand on her breast squeezing more roughly, her fingers pulling and pinching at her dark Hershey colored nipple. Her back arched higher and she raised her legs slightly. She tasted her fingers deeply, her tongue slipping in between the appendages. They tasted. More

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