If you don’t mind, I’d be very interested in taking you in my mouth right now.Arthur: I refrain from using my veto.Chiasa: You better have washed ...his shit.Arthur: You bet. Washed it off inside some slut’s box a few hours ago.Chiasa: So I taste. Blonde, right?Arthur: Uncanny.Chiasa: Drooling up and down your shaft, making a wet, slimy, molten, quite tasty mess.Arthur: Massaging your scalp appreciatively.Chiasa: Popping a nut into my mouth, tonguing it around diligently, then the other.Arthur:. Barry had started going to bed earlier and earlier. What else was there to do? He wasn't a reader, and watching TV only pained him. Why did those actors, so obviously untalented, get glamourous, high-paying jobs while he unsuccessfully pounded the streets?He knew something was drastically wrong with him the moment he woke up. He'd needed eyeglasses since he was thirteen years old, but now he could see clearly right across the room. He squinted, suspiciously, but the effect persisted. . She was handcuffed to his bed, and she was sucking him off. Fuck, yeah. Totally awesome.“You’re good, Laura,” he said, holding on to her shoulder and firmly inserting his dick in her sweet mouth over and over again, thrusting slowly. “But I want you bad. I like you bad. And I know that deep down, you’re a bad girl who likes it rough.” With those words he tightened his hand in her hair till her forehead reddened. He grabbed her shoulder with his other hand and, without warning, rammed his. She reached for a button on a small console and pressed it. Then she typed on the keyboard in front of her before looking up. "Can I help you?" she asked."If you've got work to do, I can wait," said Bob, pointing at the keyboard."I was just telling the person I transferred the call to who was calling and what it's about," she said, smiling."Wow," said Bob. "That's pretty snazzy." Yeah," she said. "Phone? Meet email. Email? Feel free to intrude on yet another part of life." Her smile widened.