Chapter Eight
Gillian remembered not to wear panties just in case she was caught by a member of the club, unaware. That wasn’t a particular problem for her, but doing this because a secret s****l society demanded her naked crotch was something that would work on her brain all day. She wondered as she lifted her skirt to sit on bare skin if there was a member watching, and if it would impress them with the sincerity of her purpose. Membership became more dear to her each hour. Every time her mind wandered to the evening on the bar stool her body quickened. Who was the man behind her? And who was the man in front? That one seemed familiar. After some days, she suddenly remembered the balding-bearded guy at her cunt. A lawyer too. And a fierce litigator. She won a case against him, and with
