Jane would normally not have accepted sitting so close to so many swaggering male spies, bragging about their latest female conquests, as they consume... their three-martini lunches. But after the unproductive morning that she had just suffered, Jane was too tired and frustrated to find another eating establishment now. As Jane sat down to eat lunch, she overheard a group of young male spies at the bar, talking about their recent graduation party, held in Vienna, Austria. Jane knew from her. She was submitting to him.His cock grew hard."Drink it, whore," he hissed. "That's it. That's a good, fucking slut. You are mine. I will use you how I please. You'll drink my or any of my wives' piss."She moaned her submission, swallowing another mouthful of piss.The stream dwindled and died. His hands gripped the side of her face, his cock thrusting deep into her mouth. His balls smacked her chin as he fucked Hawaa's face. Her hands reached around his waist, seizing his muscular ass, pulling. The wife sat there for a moment, cowed. She seemed enchanted by the workings of the clasp on her pocketbook, shocked at Les’ hints, fearful he might actually use the word frumpy. By now, she knew, people were suggesting that all she did was fuck Johnny for her salary.The last was becoming painfully true and her sole mission tonight was to nail Johnny down on exactly what her company role was. He had not given her any accounts to manage. He’d blown off her hints about it, saying she was still in. I would make the same wish when I saw the first star at night, but of course my prayers and wishes were never answered.So, instead, I imagined him. I created him in a fantasy - an archetypal female rescue fantasy, although I hadn't read Jung and didn't know that at the time.His name was Tony, probably the most unimaginative name possible in an Italian family, considering that I already had a younger brother named Vincent. But I wasn't all that inventive back then.I would have done anything for.