. prefect.The Monday after her first contact Elizabeth Anne Boleyn appeared at the office with THREE applicants for prenatal care and WIC.“They live...on a boat.”Sudden inhalations of breath almost sucked the windows out of their frames.“They’re Foreigners.”Nearly shattered the glass.“Might be illegals.”The boss descended from her third floor corner office and shook Elizabeth Anne’s hand.So ... Elizabeth Anne Boleyn wasn’t at the airport when Tyche Selene flew the 89% scale Pitts ... and proved. It took me thirty days to get to Bridgetown, Barbados, where I spent time and money dealing with the formalities. It was only the second time I'd 'gone foreign', the first being Madeira, but Madeira is Portuguese, Portugal is part of the EU, and hence my UK passport was sufficient. Quite apart from that, I had a lot to think about.Harbours – new countries – are all very well, but if you don't interact with the people, what's the point? Peter Duck, in one of Ransome's tales said something like. Me: There you go! I flex my hips as your tongue swirls around. I am She: I take all of you in, pressing my nose to your skin.Me: Shit, that’s hot.She: Isn’t it? And it only gets hotter as I start sucking you.Me: I can’t wait anymore. I want to come inside you.She: I release you and look at you with wide eyes.Me: I kneel down with you. We don’t need a bed.She: I lie on my back and spread my legs.Me: I grab your thighs and position myself above you.Me: I look into your eyes that are just begging. I pushed you back into the chair, your hands still tied to the legs of it. With your naked body exposed, legs slightly agape, and your perfect tits basking in the sunlight peering through the window you were a delicious sight. “Are you ready?” I asked teasingly and slightly louder than a whisper as my lips brushed your ear. “Mhm,” you moaned eagerly as you licked your lips and opened your mouth. Unbeknownst to you, your wish was coming true. Jordan had been waiting quietly the entire time,.