But, well, I don’t see the connection between them and your cruise and the sailing and such.” Jon paused in his conversation to move a piece on th... Regicide board set between him and Vynn. Vynn shook her head, her normally cheery face drawn into lines of concentration and reflection more befitting a priest or a schola student or one suffering exceptionally from consumption.“So, I suppose it falls on me to ask: Exactly what do navigators navigate?” Jon asked.“My good man,” Vynn said. “I believe. “I don’t think we can get realistic information from women in pending process. The answers and comments are likely to be skewed due to stress,” Liz said.“Okay. How about interviews on non-processing days? Like Tuesday and Thursday. Bring people in for interviews in advance of their processing date, and see what they think. Maybe we can work to develop a few low-cost alternatives and use the data to further develop formal offers,” David asked.“Okay. But who does the interviews?” Nancy asked.“All. The more you lap, the more it moans. The more it moans, the more you lap. Easy peasy. Well, it's easy peasy at first, but pretty soon, there are fingers in your hair and thighs pressing hard against your cheeks and your nose and mouth are buried in her regal mingedom and you can't breathe and all you can do is lap and lap and lap as Queeny B bucks and grinds. Then just as you think it couldn't get any harder a rigid muscle of manliness thrusts into your sopping flower of desire and pounds until. As she bent down to get the orange juice out of the refrigerator, she could feel her new testicles swinging between her parted legs. It was a new sensation, and she stood there with the refrigerator door open, legs straight and slightly akimbo, bent from the waist swaying back and forth slightly, feeling them swing. “What the fuck are you doing?” Elaine cried out. “From here it looks like you’re trying to screw the refrigerator, and, trust me, it looks damned silly.” Charlie stood up, closed.