Russsian house servant fisted in bondage.
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Maki closed the door of his hotel room and headed down the stairs to the street. The temperatures of the fall night were rather brisk and with the light rain misting down, the air picked up a distinctive chill. He pulled his head in closer to his body, trying to keep as much warmth as possible trapped in his trench coat and jammed his hands deep into his pockets. The clothing he was wearing led him to being warm, so it was done as a form of habit more than necessity. He walked quickly passing the other night-goers who laughed and talked and hustled up and down the street. He stuck close to the buildings, sliding past those who were on the fringes surrounding the surge of passersby who were headed in the opposite direction. The overhead lights illuminated the path he was treading, knee high leather boots making very little sound.
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