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I had a lacy garter on my left thigh for ebony collecting the dollar bills. I felt so cheap. All these men wanted me to be their whore. They were showering me in attention. Was black this all I craved? Just men looking at me. Did it matter who? Did I even need Clint when I could have these horny guys throwing dollar bills at me. A grin crossed my face as I strutted farther out on tits stage. I spun around, shaking my ass, guys groaning as my skirt flared up to flash my rump. My pussy grew hotter and hotter, juices soaking my thong. I smiled and fluttered my eyes as my body moved to the music. I busty was a porn star dancing before these guys, an utter slut. My pain melted away. I could do this. I could just soil curvy myself in the club, degrade myself. I deserved this. To be here. I was like Zoey, not Pam. It was better this way. Clint didn't need— Clint stood at the back by the doors. His arms were folded before him, his eyes intent as he watched me. Zoey's words rippled through my mind as my body kept moving and the dollar bills kept raining on stage. What did I truly want? Attention or Clint? To be continued... I don't curvy think she's happy one bit with Lockwood's decision.” “George,” I yelled, “you have enough meat here for the tits whole neighborhood. Her husband’s name, by the way, really is Sailor Sam. Nena had gone for the bathroom and I could hear running water black as she tried to clean up. The water busty was freezing but it felt good, easing the tension in my muscles. I sat at the table. I ebony was blown away. He was inside her mind corrupting her motor functions. That ain’t no show, it’s the whole ‘effing circus," I growled as I pretended to be annoyed. Cassian took a few steps forward, coming right up into my face. All around 24-30 years old. I spent the night in his bed and went to sleep in the ‘spoon’ position with him deep inside me. He kissed her deep.