Inside the padded manilla shipping envelope were two items.The first was an antique leather-bound journal with a worn strap holding its covers shut, t...e second was a heavy envelope with my name, Melissa Gordon, written on it in neat (if old-fashioned) cursive hand. The letter inside was typed on expensive heavy-weight paper that had the company watermark in the center of the page. The letter explained that the law firm had been retained by a small, independent museum to find and return the. I staggered outside the tent and wandered off to tell someone about the wonders of my fingers and toes. Then it really got strange and I must have passed out. I woke up with an incredible headache and the sight of Robert glaring down at me didn’t help. I did giggle at the sight of my usually neatly groomed old friend in a beard and sandals. The giggling hurt. ‘You dumb bimbo.’ Nobody but Robert could call me a bimbo and have it come out both as a term of endearment and a stinging rebuke at the. She stared into his eyes urging him on with all her charms. The fantasy was working. She was getting closer. Finally, it happened. The Sultan would be hers tonight. She convulsed outside with her dance while her insides convulsed around their silicone invader. After it was over, she nearly collapsed from the exertion, but her love muscles still clinched tight on the squid as if they didn’t quite know how to stop. She gasped as a second wave of pleasure swept over her. She caught her breath for. "I'm doing fine now that you're here." You've fed me that line for over three years now. When are you going to come up with a new one?" Just as soon as you stop looking so damn good." Watch it. That's borderline sexual harassment." Natasha self-consciously pulled closed her Dolce & Gabbana hip length black with a camel pinstripe suit jacket. She could feel Calvin's coffee brown eyes travel over her bountiful breasts."Borderline? I must be slippin'. Usually you threaten to at least call.