I know that the girls in the secretarial pool look on me with fear and all that and I wish it didn't have to be so, but it does. and it needs to remai... so. I feel I treat everyone pretty good... as good as I can," he said."You do, Peter. The girls downstairs do look at you with awe and respect, but you are the boss of a big operation, and can't be all friends and chums with everyone here - we understand," she said."That's good to know. Now in addition to confidentiality, tact and diplomacy are. She is looking at me from between her thighs. With her Doc Marten's-like shoes at each side of her head, the pose might have been funny, but with her shorts off, pussy and ass willingly offered and that wild look in her eyes, this is just pure naughtiness.She is so wet that I can notice it without even having to touch her. I finger her pussy to increase her arousal some more. The touch of her large labia on my fingers is sweet yet the situation is anything but sweet. Something strong is. It gets to be so routine, and sometimes boring - though I very much like my work.On yesterday's flight, however, something different happened. My connecting flight was on a regional jet. As I boarded, and the flight attendant greeted me, I immediately recognized her. As the title of this story indicates, she was - indeed - an Indian princess (BTW: that's Eastern Indian, as in India). Her smile was great to see, and I warmed up inside immediately. Why? I had flown on one of her flights a few. Unbeknown to them, I reach with my cold fingers inside my anus, relishing the warmth for a moment. I pull out a small plastic bullet I use to hide there before my challenges. I unscrew its cap and here are a few lock-picking tools. I take one, close the bullet and hide it again in the same place.I am shivering in the cold. The snow around me is throwing an anguishing coat of silence over everything. In my private darkness, I feel like I am alone in the world. Alone and freezing to death. My.
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