"Scarlet was a sexy floozy. Her body was luscious. She was notoriously desirous to put out for the wealthy, naughty deviants who crowded to her sociable affairs. At Scarlet's parties, everybody got sotted; then they got bare; then they got what they came for, as lengthy as they were ready to pay. The jeweled, exposed flash of Scarlet's guests gleaned in the candlelight and the erotic juice flowed as this babe performed and orchestrated unspeakable acts of rapture. Then why did somebody press a sex toy into that large, pretty face hole?
"Poor Scarlet – gene in a flash! Her rich woman called Dester Sleuth, famous-but-destitute intimate eye, which of Scarlet's celebrity paramours got tired of paying her bills? The syndicated columnist and scecret lesbo, Connie? Beatrice and Arnold, the stockbrokers who let Scarlet open up their manage with strip-and-stroke poker? Or the fabulous Broadway star, Celeste, who acted out her kinkiest urges underneath Scarlet's guiding hands? Or the Senator, who not merely talked obscene on Scarlet's heaving breast, but let a small in number state secrets out of the bag.
"There was the large tennis pro whose heavy itch, Scarlet knew how to scratch in just the right places. Who was Scarlet – cheap tramp and blackmail, artist, or just a marvelous, oversexed nymph who at no time told no? One thing was certain, this babe was a great lay. Now that babe was gone and Dexter was determined to solve the mystery of her . He needed the specie, but the suspects were all excited, slippery, and craving. It was going to be a hawt case and a real taut squeeze."
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