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She had originally wanted to take Phillip Montgomery up to her room. Where, assuming-assuming, Massimino had already planted the hidden cams.Cassandra didn’t need the money. She made good bank peddling convention and exhibition wares. And her husband did even better in insurance as a State Farm commercial broker. So it could be merely a lark, an adventure away from the hubby and kids.Or it could be she was hooked on Massimino.Or it could be I didn’t have a fucking clue.Door Number Three.Still at the Taj, armed with this new banking info, I called Cassandra at home. Which, enraged her. Her husband had answered the landline. Quietly seething, talking through clenched teeth, she hissed, “What the fuck do you mean calling me here?”“Bank of America savings account. Cash deposits on June 7th and 22nd. Come see me now.”I hung up, winning that game two to one.Twenty-five minutes later she called me from the hotel lobby. I said, “Room 1016.” Hung up again, smiling to myself.Cassandra had. I watched her for a brief time as she worked her fingers in the groove of her panties, biting down on her lower lip as she got her self closer and closer to cumming.About three quarters of the way through her left leg, she grabbed my shoulder with her left hand and let out a loud moan as she clamped her legs shut hard on her fingers... she came super hard, probably as hard as I've seen her cum while masturbating. I had to pause and appreciate the moment, and to keep from slicing her leg cause they were shaking so bad after that monster orgasm. All I could say was "wow baby, that was a great show! and you came hard!" "mmmmm hmmmm" was all she could mutter. well I finished up her left leg as she continued to deftly play with her pussy... god her panties were so soaking wet she was leaking cream right into the bath water down the side of the tub. Her pussy smelled so musky and hot I was dying to get a taste of it and knew I would in due time.I rinsed her legs off and she gave an.
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