Japanese bestiality.
| ENTER - Japanese bestiality . |
"What's your name, honey?" she asked. "Brian," he stammered. She leaned back for just a second and shook his limp hand. "My name is Vanessa. It's nice to meet you, Brian." He managed a sickly smile. "Nice to meet you, too."
She released her hand and her fingers resumed their burrowing in his shorts. "Where are you from, Brian? "Pittsburgh."
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Her red lips curled in a dramatic frown. "Oh, that's too bad, you won't get a chance to see everything the French Quarter has to offer." Then those creamy lips spread into a mischievous smile. "But I can show you something very special, something you'll remember a long, long time." She took his hand again and said, "Come on, darling."
He wanted to pull away. He wanted to jerk his hand free and run, run the seven blocks back to St. Anne's Street and then sprint back to the hotel. Get on the plane, get back to Pittsburgh, get away from this terrifying woman. But he didn't. He couldn't. The spell she'd cast over him with her lips, her scent, her fingernails, was far too strong for him to resist. She pushed aside the thick plastic slats that served as a doorway to the club, and he was taken from the safety of the street.
It was very dark inside the club. The overhead lights were off, the only illumination coming from soft lights behind the bar and a bright green EXIT sign above the hallway in the back. Brian could see a circular stage with tables set around it, and a long runway that ran through the center of the club. The big room was empty, except for a big, bearded man whose bare arms were covered with dark tattoos. The smell of stale beer and sharp strawberry disinfectant competed with Vanessa's heady perfume and eventually carried the day. This wasn't what they called a "gentleman's club". It was a dive that had naked girls straddling poles.
"This is my place." Vanessa said. "I've been entertaining here for nearly fifteen years. We're a New Orleans institution." She led him by the hand toward the bar. "I'm going to take our guest on a tour," she told the scary bartender.
He shrugged his massive shoulders. "OK with me," he said, bored. He stared at Brian with obvious contempt and his terror multiplied tenfold. He'd heard about the crime in New Orleans, how it was for a time the murder capital of the United States. Did people here lure innocent tourists into darkened clubs to rob them, kill them, sell their organs on the black market?
He wanted to cry as the woman led him down a darkened corridor and up a creaky staircase. It was totally absurd, this sexy woman in luxurious white lingerie walking up stairs that could have easily been in a run-down tenement. "I want you to meet some friends of mine," she whispered.
They came to a door and Vanessa tapped gently. "Is everyone decent?" she said. "No," a bored female voice called from inside. Vanessa smiled and opened the door. She made room for Brian to go in first, and once they were inside she closed the door. He looked around the room. There were four girls in the room lounging around on various pieces of beat-up green leather furniture. None looked to be more than 21 years old. Three of the girls were white-a tall girl with straight platinum blonde hair, a chubby girl with big jiggy breasts and curly, dirty-blonde hair, and a willowy redhead with pale, pale skin. The fourth girl was black, and maybe a few years older than the others. She was topless, and her huge, over-inflated breasts floated on her chest like two volleyballs.
"Girls, this is Brian," Vanessa said, wrapping her arm around his waist and snuggling close. "This is his first time in N'Awlins." The four girls looked at him with an odd combination of indifference and amusement. "Hey, Brian," the black girl said, drawling out his name so it sounded like, "Braaan." He looked around. All the girls had dark, disinterested eyes that added an even shaper edge to his nervousness.
"I was telling Brian about how it's too bad he's here when it's so quiet around here," Vanessa said. "He needs to come back and visit us during Mardi Gras." "Oh, yeahhh," the black girl said, rising to her feet. Her giant breasts thrust out before her and wobbled stiffly as she walked up to him. "Biggest party on earth." Brian couldn't meet her eyes, her big tits begged for close inspection.
She cupped her breasts in her hands. "You're momma probably tells you it isn't nice to stare." Brian felt his face flush red and he looked her in the face. Her smile was lazy, practiced. He felt like he was in the middle of a performance that had been put on a hundred times before, but he didn't know his lines. He just had to follow where these scary, sexy women took him.
There was a flash of flame to his left, the red-haired girl put a cigarette in her lips and lit it. It broke his concentration for a second and Vanessa said, "Doesn't Charita have lovely breasts?" "What?" Brian said.