Sloane's Pov
The private elevator opened straight to the main lounge of my brothel.
Crystal chandeliers lined the ceiling, throwing soft, dimmed light through the otherwise dark room. Soft jazz played in the corner, the sound mixed with hushed conversations and wet, slurping sounds.
This was high class.
The women and men who worked for me were all vetted. I had clients who made millions just be in here.
Tonight, I wore a black net top that left my rosy n*****s hard and visible. A cheerleader skirt that left my ass hanging, and underneath a shoelace thong that parted my cunt lips.
My husband was already here. Probably in one of the private rooms having fun.
I loved our open marriage. If I see a man that I was attracted to, nothing was stopping me from hopping on his d**k; same
