 This latina caliente is a story intended latina for adults. Anyone under the age of consent...no, that's not right. Anyone under the age to get into latina a bar...no, wait, that may access be too stringent. Anyone who access is of age to vote, whether they choose latina to do so or not, can read this story latina. Anyone else should latina be here. Back away slowly. Retain eye contact. Don't make any sudden moves.
 Thelma latina was waitressing, serving drinks to the five or latina six people scattered at small tables throughout the club. I stayed just inside the entrance to the club until she latina returned to the bar latina and sat down, then walked over to her and pulled out my lighter to start the latina cigarette she'd just placed in her mouth.
 Looking at her over the flame, I could see that she'd caliente probably started latina out hustling drinks latina years before, thinking that, with her looks, the tips would more than make up for the late nights, the smoky joints, and the leers and propositions of the scummy crud that hung out in such places. Now, older, wiser, and more cautious, she still knew how to fill the club's apparent uniform of the day: slit latina leather mini-skirt, fishnets, five-inch latina black heels, and a patent-leather latina corset that cinched latina up tighter around her waist and boobs. If latina not for the tired lines around her eyes, the yellow nicotine stains latina on latina her hands and teeth, and the signs of heavy drinking showing from the latina pronounced veins around her nose...she might be worth hitting once latina to see if it latina was good.
 "Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhitt access......."
 She mulled this over a moment as Mickey brought back our drinks. She knocked hers back with one latina caliente swallow, then latina stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray on the bar.
 "Ahhhh...good evening Detective...?"
 Now, believe me, those latina words latina didn't come out of mouth access immediately after I peed my latina pants. No, tough guy latina that I am, it took me more than a few moments to recover my steely gaze and hard-boiled latina exterior.
 I caliente had latina to latina admit, the Devilish latina Dry Cleaning Service latina did really latina good work.
 "So latina caliente what's the deal with this place? Why latina set yourself up as a second-rate hypno-magician-whatever in a dead-end saloon at latina the latina edge of nowhere latina?"
 "At latina any rate, it specified that, should the deal be broken, she latina would spend latina 200 years in service to me, and, on latina the latina night of the 200th year latina, she could leave to latina live latina out the rest of her latina natural life." The caliente Devil paused and smiled again latina.
 At that, Thelma brought her latina head from the floor and latina looked at me like a hungry cat who just spotted cream caliente. She undulated across the floor on her latina knees, wiggling her ass in latina an attempt to make latina her crawling even more sexy. In latina no time, she was between latina my latina legs, pulling down the latina zipper on my pants with her teeth. As she slowly drew latina my cock latina out of my shorts and began running her long red nails over its length latina, she whispered, "We latina're going to have such access fun, you and I latina. I'll latina do anything you want latina, anything at all."
 Oh, I'll give it to the Devil, he tried to give me latina an out, to realize what I latina was saying latina.
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