If I was flying commercial, which is what Simon and Schuster had planned, it would take me half the day. There was a limo waiting for me at the charte... office and I was at the Ritz-Carlton fifteen minutes later. If there is one truly wonderful thing about having serious money, it is the ability to fly charter.The next morning, I was in the studio of WBZ, “NewsRadio 1030”, getting ready to sell the book. Glamorous, it ain’t. Small rooms, cramped spaces, listening to idiots yammer half the time.. I felt the hot jizz deep in my rectum as he unloaded what felt like a gallon of cum deep in my bowels. At the same time, without any direct stimulation to my own cock, I erupted, shooting a giant load of cum all over the concrete floor as my dick twitched uncontrollably.As he pulled his enormous rod from my battered ass, I felt a cool breeze blow through the open restroom door and up my gaping hole. He pulled my hair roughly, dragging me back upright on my knees, eye level with his still erect. She’d know the second she reentered her ancestral lands. She hated the feeling. Hated her people. They lived in fear. They built their faux community, putting everyone before themselves, to the detriment of themselves. Community mattered only so far as you weren’t accused of witchcraft, of being a skinwalker. Then you were cast out. Or worse. She hated him as well, that U.S. Marshall with the smug look of satisfaction. What he’d done. What he hadn’t. The guitar. Abandoned in a dark hallway in. All were dark and closed at this time of night."Take off your tie and jacket." Catherine instructed him."Okay." Michael said as he pulled at the knot of his red tie and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. Then he draped his jacket over his bucket seat. The white shirt he wore underneath was short sleeved."Nice." she said as she ran her fingers up his lightly tanned arm.Michael could feel the movement of every hair in his arm as her fingernails sailed across them."Open the glove compartment.".