The ball of my thumb traced gently the line of her scar."It was last Christmas," she said quietly. "Christmas is a time of great joy. But then you go ...utside and see the couples all bundled up—wrapped in their woolens, wrapped in each other—and you feel the empty space next to you where somebody should be, where nobody is, and it can be hard to remember." And your had just been dumped that August," I murmured. I'd spent Christmases alone; I knew what she meant. It's like Valentine's Day, except. I was looking forward to meeting the senator. I feared she would be an obstacle in getting out the bimbo serum to market, but maybe her speeches were more playing to her base than reflecting her true values.There was money and beauty to be had. And if not her, there would be other powerful men and women, especially men, at the gala. The rich and powerful of Washington D.C. would be here. And my bimbos would be in circulation, advertising the delightful possibilities the Venus Serum would bring.. All I could remember was that I rushed to get the dress as my cheeks were all red from arousal, that the young man who scanned my product was quite unsure of what to do while he was looking at my big erected nipples, hearing slightly my hardcore porn out of my headphones and feeling my horny eyes thinking only about his juicy cock. Finally, nothing big happened, but I really hoped he’d be stroking his cock real hard when he’d get home!When I finally got back into my car, I noticed there wasn’t. She loved her job - the thrill of seeing hard cocks and asses like steel.Lately, though, her work had been slipping. The thrill was gone, and the last ten models she'd photographed were nothing spectacular.But when the editor of the magazine, Leona, had called her with this particular assign-ment, it intrigued Bree, so she said she'd do it.Maybe this model would be halfway decent-looking. The assignment was called College Professor Cock, and the fact that they had decided to use a real college.