I want to hear that Whitney shined. I know she has worked hard on the song that Claire and Marilyn put together for her."Janice nodded. "We've figured...out a place to fit in the song. It's going to be a bit raw though. I don't know if our orchestra knows it." We will get through it," I promised. "If I hurry, we can probably practice it a couple times. Which song is it?" Marilyn called the song, "A Torch for my Mistress". It's a poem Claire wrote about how much she loves living in our pod,". She gasped every time he bottomed out. Her eyes rolled in surprise, looking around like she expected some kind of explanation or answer to what was happening.“By the gods…” she swore. Will drove harder. Faster. Her eyes clenched shut and her back arched. Something inside her squeezed tight. He kept going, driving, pushing, slamming through her clenching. The steady, building pressure never reached that point of sustained tension like when he’d had his head between her thighs. Instead, the. ‘Can we switch cars?’ Don asked when we were almost at his house. ‘I have to meet a new client tomorrow.’ For some strange reason, new clients had a tendency to trust only assassins with luxury cars. I hesitated for several seconds. ‘Sure,’ I said as we pulled into a gated community on a golf course in Boulder City, just outside Las Vegas. ‘Thanks. I’ll see you soon.’ He leaned over to kiss my cheek. He had never done that before. This was strange. It’s not a big deal, I thought to myself as I. We grind against each other, your full weight over me. I love the pressure it causes me against the bed. You stay there for the longest time, kissing me until you move off. You draw a finger from my neck, between my breasts, over my slim belly before finding its way to my clit. You begin to rub it softly, as I move my hips with your easy touch. I moan through the touches, knowing you’re going make me have to cum again if you keep this up. I’m sure it’s your goal. Your fingers are circling my.