It wasn’t until I reached the Security checkpoint that things got dicey. One of the security people, a large black man, wanted to know what was in t...e Diplomatic Pouch that I was carrying. I pulled out Tuttle’s CIA ID card but was saved from doing anything else when a supervisor came over to talk to the man.“You can’t open that Diplomatic Pouch or even X-ray it, Smith. We don’t see many of them here, but we should all know what they are,” the supervisor told the security man, who gave him and. I would see how men responded to her and sometimes it appeared there was more than flirting going on, but I never had proof... until I did. I knew she would be gone for quite some time and I must have passed by her lap top three times before I decided to snoop. For some reason, I didn't go to her email or Facebook, I went searching through her desktop and documents folder. Right at the top of the desktop was a video file named “Seattle”. I opened it as I knew she had recently gone to Seattle to. It was absolutely amazing how the glitterylashes illuminated above his lids, which now sparkled in every directionfrom the glittery eye shadow that was scattered across them.That bit of sparkle was nothing though, compared to the glitter that hadbeen added to his hair, as his slicked back style and bun twinkled inevery direction, like it was almost electrified. From ear to ear his hairhad ben slicked back tightly before mushrooming out into a large delicatebun. Beneath it an amazing lace braid. She hugged herself, shivering with eagerness. Yet, as much as she wanted to fuck her son, there was something holding her back. She wanted to feel his cock inside her cunt desperately...and didn't understand this vague feeling of hesitation. If she would take his cock into her mouth, drink his sweet come juice down, or fuck him with herasshole, it didn't make sense to Peggy why she shouldn't let him have her cunt, too. The lighted digital clock at her bedside told her she had better get some.