Thursday morning, I called the MPD and asked to speak to him.“Captain Crowley, this is Graham Reaper.”“Yes, Sergeant Reaper, it’s good to talk...to you again. How can I help you?”“Well, it’s just plain Graham these days. I have hung up the uniform. Listen, I’ll make this quick. I just wanted to know if you were serious last week about becoming a police officer,” I replied.I heard him chuckle. “Yes, I was serious. I guess you’ve been thinking about it?”“Some, I guess. I wasn’t sure if it was just. Looking at his face I saw his eyes blink open. It took a minute or two for him to remember where he was. Then with a start he said, "You are a bad baby girl for waking daddy. What should we do about it?"I continued to rub his prick responding, "I don't know daddy. I couldn't help myself you have such a pretty dick daddy." He gave my boob a hard squeeze and got up and walked over to his bag and got something out. On his way back he turned on all of the lights in the room and instructed me to lay. “You’ll find that all sex actresses, including me, discard their knickers and anything else covering their cunt while still in the reception room. As your breasts are such an obvious asset, you needn’t actually display them, but you mustn’t obscure them in any way. A blouse a size or two too small will be quite adequate.” The part of the exercise that filled Amna with the most trepidation, however, was not the actual audition. She considered this to be an ordeal best get over as quickly as all. Also nice to know that he could have either or both any time he wished. As it happened, he was feeling rather lazy. More like drinking. Perhaps, during a drowsy afternoon, he would have one of them suck him. Something that didn’t require a great deal of effort from him. Thank God for Madame Vesta’s pills... they kept him in fine sexual fettle. Without them, Quentin did not think he would be able to perform half as well as he did, which was like that of a man in his early-forties rather than.