He sat next to his food and began to pop the fruit into his mouth. “Is there anything else you would like, Master Cold?” I asked, folding my hand... in front of me. “You don’t have to call me ‘Master Cold’, Claire. You can call me Simon. Or Master Simon if you would be more comfortable.” He tore a piece of his bread off and bit into it. “Yes, Master Simon.” The words tasted lovely on my tongue. Master Simon… he has my complete permission to do with me as he would. “And, Claire?” His voice was. This is where the real night life was , everyone partying in bars and having a decent time .Just as we was heading back to the taxi rank to go back to the hotel I noticed a gay bar I had a quick glance in and it looked great , it was quite packed and had music blaring and had guys dancing around .On the way home in the taxi I couldn't stop thinking about it . It was quite late so we all went back to our rooms , I got so horny thinking about it , even my 48 year old mum was shagging next door. More

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