Thread: Tale Of Two Thieves [mommablackrose x OleDirtyBastard]

Mr. Robertson, nice to see you again! Alan greeted the director of the Museum of Foreign Arts with a firm handshake. Thank you very much for your invitation. May I introduce you to my companion for this night, Mrs. Mary-Ann Dalton? Director Robertson smiled broadly. Well, Mr. Ravensdale, as you know full well, your Manchurian Trust sponsored our little event with twenty thousand dollar, so I actually had no choice here. Oh yes, thank you, Mr. Robinson. Mary-Ann squeaked. Its so wonderful being here, with all those wonderful people in this wonderful museum. Now, and where are those really wonderful jewels? Mary-Ann Dalton usually called MAD when she couldnt hear it was a city-wide known It-Girl. An attention whore with too much Botox in her lips, too much silicone in her tits, and too much vacuum where other people had a brain. Alan could have lived with all that if it hadnt been for her voice. The giggles, the squealing, the ever-more-high-pitched noises, sent shivers through his spine. After he had now listened to this voice for an hour, he was whole-heartedly convinced that the United Nations should declare it a violation of human rights. Tomorrow morning, I will fire my secretary who made this arrangement , Alan thought. Hey wait , a small part of him whispered back, it was your own idea, remember? Yes, but Ling should have stopped me somehow. Its all so exciting, my Alan-bear. I have never before been to a museum, you know? Mary-Ann blabbered on. Look, thats Naomi over there. She started waving through the hall. Hiiii, Naooomi! For one moment, just one short moment, Alan allowed himself the luxury of dreaming Mary-Ann, blindfolded and gagged, lying naked on her belly. Oh yes, GAGGED, for gods sake . Her arms chained tightly on her back her butt beaten green and blue from his riding crop. His cock raping her asshole until it was bleeding. Then, he concentrated on his breathing felt for the power of his inner chi flowing through his body, vitalising and at the same time calming. Without the slightest strain in his voice and with an open smile, he leaned over to the white-blonde girl, saying Now be a good girl and please get us a drink. The bar is over there, on the left side of the hall, I think. For me, its a Mojito. For some seconds, he watched the girl clacking through the hall on her five-inch-high stilettos, her cream-colored skimpy cocktail dress just barely covering her buttocks. Then his attention returned to the entrance hall of the museum. The spacious main hall was an imitation of ancient Greek style, with slim ionic columns, and colourful frescoes of Hellenic legends. Alan had been three times in this museum during the last two weeks, since he had found out about the exhibition of the famous Crown Jewels of Shahjipoor . They were to be shown on the upper floor of the central wing, just up the broad stairs on the opposite end of the hall. It had been no problem memorising all the floor plans even insultingly simple. In Bangkok, where he had spent the last four years, architecture was a nightmare of constructions, crosscuts, connecting junctions, main-, side- and wing buildings, all mixed up happily without any recognizable order. Welcome to America, he thought smiling, the land where they keep it plain and simple.