We’d have to give it back, baby. Karen’s posture became crisp and statue-like. “You just called me baby.” She kissed me. “I like that.” We...melted together for just a second. I nudged her shoulder with mine and brought our attention back to the wallet. “Chloe Olson, 54 Pembroke Ave., Portsmouth New Hampshire.” Karen read the owner’s information off her driver’s license. Should we call her? “Yes, but let’s go through the rest of this.” How old is she? “Born in 1974.” I wonder how she dropped. Mistress herself was loosing count she was lost in the moment of watching thedance she was creating. She paused to collect her breath and reached down betweenher slave's legs. Damn she thought. He is still hard. Mistress then reachesand grabs a cigarette and her lighter. She Lights both her cigarette and acandle. She cools down a little and waits as she knows her slave can smellher smoking a cigarette and knowing that he is also a smoker could use onetoo. As she finishes about half her. Lisa remembered now how their trip was cut short when Beth decided she wanted to go home. She would never say why. Was that the reason?Already, not comfortable with the situation, Phil was not liking where this conversation was going. Yet he found his cock rock hard. Lisa crawled up so she could mount him.“Beth told me everything. I can think of only one reason why she wouldn’t have told me about you.”Lisa slid her pussy down the full length of her dad’s cock before starting a nice steady. I remember thinking as she walked away, 'I wonder how much those puppies cost her?'I then opened my laptop bag and took out my route book in hopes that I might have time to familiarize myself with my new customer's locations before she came back with my meal.When I opened it, my eyes were instantly drawn an entry on the first page that had been circled with a large pink highlighter. There was a sticky note attached to the page with my father's handwriting on it. It read, "Don't let her get away.