Talus, fibula, tibia ... all there, all feel intact. You should come in on Monday for an x-ray just in case, but it definitely feels like a grade two ...prain. You need to stay off it for the next couple of weeks, ice it, elevate it, and keep it wrapped.” He handed her his card. “Do that for two weeks and we’ll see if we can’t get you started on some strengthening exercises. I wouldn’t count on it being all better in four weeks, but it might be.”Emily took the card and, with nowhere else to put. ” “I told them specifically not to put them on your Big Mac, because I know you don’t like them. I can’t help that they don’t listen.” I mumbled in response as my fingers tap on the screen of his iPad, earning a scoff in return. By the time I’m done revising his notes and making sure things are perfect by the time he is done eating, we leave to go to the conference room. While we’re walking I take in his perfectly tailored charcoal suit with a silk baby blue tie and lick my lips in. She clutched her crotch, as her other hand sought support from the dresser. The feeling subsided. Though she could acutely feel the inner lips of her wet wet pussy desirous to suck at the length of her finger through her soaked panties. She brought her finger up to examine it. Slick with her juice, it was slippery, yet clear. Very slippery. It smelled really interesting(?) … good even— like a flower— so she tasted it. She looked at herself in the mirror. Topless, her pointy little tits jutting. With wondrous eyes and careful strokes, she explored the length of Clinton’s immense prick. Heavily veined, hot to touch, her hands climbed it as if she was proceeding up a rope in the gym. She literally hauled it in, finally reaching the folds of his pants. On fumbling inside, she gasped loudly as she pulled out his gonads. Each ballock filled her hand, five inches in diameter, perfectly smooth and as heavy as two ripe grapefruit.“It’s truly amazing Clinton,” she breathed glancing up at him.An.