In a few clipped words, Mr. Taylor Froth had done what a smile from a pretty woman and a cup of excellent coffee failed to do: make David happy he cam... to work.John Goodman (no relation, he exhaustedly explained every time he introduces himself) was one of the traveling masseurs who went to clients who couldn’t make it out to the parlor or preferred to stay in the safety and comfort of home. If this was a normal massage parlor this news wouldn’t get David so excited, but this was a parlor. Finally the thing in her pussy exploded, went limp, and was withdrawn. But there were more dreaded words: “Okay, guys – who’s next?” More zippers, a rotation of hands holding her in the bent-over position, another piston jammed into her aching pussy. She cried out and her face was pushed hard into the ground. The boy who was muffling her voice also amused himself by pinching her nipples.The rotation continued until every boy had raped her. “Anyone want another shot at her?” Jack asked. “Nah,”. More

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