Follow me Please?

   This is the sight that guests will be seeing as they are escorted to their rooms. If some asshole at Walmart can escort you to the shelf of shitty shirts way on the other side of the filth they call a store then you can certainly be escorted to your room in the New Las Vegas. Only unlike at Walmart you will not be being led by a waddling mass of downwardly drooping wobbling lard that is all ass, back, thighs, and shoulders. No, you will be being led by a perfectly formed almost naked, net-covered goddess radiating energy to your swooning and God-praising cock. If the sight of these two asscheeks flexing and relaxing in front of you bothers your wife you need to either have a talk with her or have a talk with a divorce lawyer cause you are married to a fucking life-wasting mocker of all that is precious and wondrous and sanctified. You are married to a relative to swine and not to a species akin to humans. Fortunately at the New Las Vegas services are available that will render your idiot wife unconcious and obliviously safe in a cupboard or closet for the duration of your stay, some of which can be spent being
given a handjob by the woman who escorted you to your room, much to the indifference of your unconscious wife presently sleeping in the ancillary room of the spa where all the other unconscious wives are kept in a state of suspended everything while you and your semen-squirter enjoy all the comforts and delights of NLV.