“I bet you like to hang out at Madam Moselle’s in the Quarter.” I was caught. Yes, I like strippers. I had to admit it. She laughed. “What do ...ou know about Madam Moselle’s?” I asked. “I used to be a waitress,” she replied. I knew she was lying. Madam Moselle had hostesses, but not waitresses. If a girl worked at Madam Moselle, she definitely was not a waitress. It was a tawdry place, one where $150 could get a guy anything he wanted if he played his cards right. I glanced over at my window. " she panted breathlessly. One finger slipped inside herself then two, her thumb franticly circling her clit. If it took moments or minutes Samantha wasn't aware of the passage of time but suddenly she felt the orgasm growing within her as she lost control. As she regained her breath she composed herself and scanned the room, was Rosalind breathing oddly, it looked like the secretary had been turned on by her show. Samantha smiled directly to the camera and slowly licked her slick fingers. More

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