"Oh, my bitch...!" She beckoned for me in a singsong voice shortly afterwards, I obediently walked over to her, feather duster in one hand."Yes, miss,...how may I be of service?" I asked cheerfully."Get me a drink. A glass of Pepsi." She commanded, barely taking her gorgeous green eyes off the television."Right away, miss." I replied and quickly headed to the kitchen to fulfil her request.I poured out some Pepsi from the bottle into a glass, then walked back to her to hand her the drink."I want. I'm here to put in the second line."Shit, I thought to myself as I peered out from behind the door, concealing the fact that I was dressed solely in a towel. I didn't know that my folks were having a second line put in. "Come on in. You'll have to excuse my appearance... I just hopped out of the shower."Although he looked a little uncomfortable, he responded, "No worries. Where's the second line going?"Knowing that Dad had plans to get a fax machine for the house, I assumed they wanted the. Thompson. She loved working for Mr. Thompson, An older gentleman that knew about her past. To be honest, everyone knew about Mica’s past and no one seemed to care. As for Mr. Thompson and everyone else, Mica was a competent professional and a good person, so, for them, what was between her legs was irrelevant. For Mica, she knew that today was going to be a long day. Mr. Thompson was meeting a gentleman from the United States about expanding the business into America and he was going to need. With my right hand working furiously at her clit, I pull back the small hood shielding it from direct contact, and very lightly tap the little bud. Her body responds involuntarily, jerking sharply up as a loud cry escapes from between her lips. Her right hand is wrapped tightly around my left shoulder, squeezing encouragingly when I do something right, and her teeth rest against the other, nibbling when the pleasure becomes so great that she must either bite down or shout out her good fortunes..