Soaring like a kite, I am high on lust. It's as simple as that. Daddy knows how to raise me up to levels where the only thing that matters is getting fucked and looking back on his perfect planning of this night, all that mattered to him was seeing me get just that.
Still sitting on the plush bar stool where I had been wined, dined and teased, daddy now nuzzles my hair and neck making me shiver. After a few minutes he tells me to get up. I obey and he pulls my wrists behind me ordering me to keep them there. Next thing I know I am blindfolded and he is guiding me away from the table slowly. Anywhere... I would go with him. He knows it.
Being deprived of my vision I am keenly aware of sounds and smells as we move through the building. Stopping for a few minutes I am sure we were in an elevator by the movement and that there were others with us but no one made a sound. Continuing on I hear my pony boots clopping against a hard surface of a big room smelling of smoke and alcohol ... and men. Yes I can smell them and after awhile I can hear them, their distinct footsteps, aftershave, and low voices fill the room. Slowly, whom I still believe to be daddy, presses me forward and my hip bones rest on something hard. It must be a table of sorts. I am bent forward, breasts mashed into the table, my hands still behind my back. My face rests to the side against a cold hard slab of felt... a pool table is what it must be.