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Her motivations were insincere, but I know what I felt. Casey's husband, Bob, owned the secret brothel where Casey served as Lady of The House, which was basically the manager. I had just moved to Buttercookie Beach after my life in Phoenix exploded, part of which included inheriting a house in the American owned resort town of Buttercookie Beach in Greece, about a hundred miles south of Santorini with not much in between. I met Casey at the only tavern that remained open for the slow season, and found her candor both playful and refreshingly honest. Everything about Casey was refreshing: The way her hair smelled, the way her face lit up when she laughed, and the way my spirit and body felt rejuvenated by just being near her. I was very happy to see her again the following afternoon, and relieved to discover our connection was not only in my head after she sat close to me and occasionally touched my shoulder or leg during our chat. It seemed inevitable she would invite me to her. When I finally pulled it out again it showed the exact same value as before, of course. "39 degrees, you're really sick!", I told her. "The best thing I can do for you is go and get you a cold wash cloth and give you two suppositories." This time I really expected her just to flip it and outright say no. She didn't though. She just nodded sheepishly and agreed. This was just waaayyy to good to be true, I though to myself, as I took one of the suppositories from the wrapper, and dipped my index finger into the petroleum jelly. "I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you so I've got to rub some jelly on you." I told her as I traced her bud with my finger, gradually spreading some petroleum jelly on there. After taking more than my sweet time with this I pressed the suppository against her asshole with my well lubed finger and gently started to increase the pressure. It virtually immediately started sliding downwards into her asshole until it disappeared. Instinctively, her sphincter tightened.
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