” “Where do you want it, slut.” I laughed at his words but dragged my hands over my pussy, motioning for him to fuck me right there. “Want m... to fuck you?” he asked in a husky voice as his fingers moved up and down my slick slit. “Yes,“ I breathed as I threw my head back. He grabbed onto my waist and ragged his cock over my pussy – mixing his pre-cum with my wetness. “Please, Dan, fuck me now,” I begged as I squeezed and pinched my hardening nipples that were showing threw my shirt. I wanted. January 20, 1993, Chicago, Illinois“I’m going to turn on the inauguration in the main conference room,” Elyse said.“Go on. Anyone who wants to watch is welcome to watch if their supervisor agrees. I don’t plan to watch. I’ll read the highlights of Clinton’s speech in the paper tomorrow.”“Have you ever watched the speech?”“Reagan in ‘81 and ‘85,” I said. “I know my parents always watched when I was little, but I don’t remember. The first political thing I really remember was Nixon’s resignation. It wasn't gross, though. It was delicious and I loved it as much as I loved sucking his prick and getting to drink his cum. I didn't do that all that often, though, because I knew I was going to have to go without his stiff dick in my pussy too, so I got it there as often as he could get it hard.Exactly one week after I showed Victoria I could produce milk, I got a call from her telling me Angelina had been born, and that I could go to the hospital and begin feeding her. It was weird. The. Luck was my masseuse. I was this tall, middle aged, blondebearded guy, and she was a sweet, quiet older Thai woman with shoulderlength hair and a slightly stocky build. We weren't friends or anything,but I asked for her every time. Even if I didn't want to talk, I didn'twant a completely anonymous therapist, either. So we were on a firstname basis for such deep conversations as:"Undress and get under the covers, Mr. Alex." Tea or water, Mr. Alex?" Thank you, Luck." Yes, that's great,.