She slides her hand down my pants and grasps my swelling cock. WOW she says, I did not expect that. I did not expect this I tell her, and we both la...gh as we move to the bed. I slide my pants down as she yanks my shirt off. I slip her pants down to the floor and she pushes me down on the bed. She straddles me and I tell her to turn around. She turns into a 69 and places me cock in her mouth. I spread her panties back and slide my tongue between her soaked pink lips. She tastes so sweet. He has a big-ass office, and it’s got a freakin’ couch. The office is actually bigger than the studio apartment I was sharing with my sister before acquiring Brinker. How fair is that?He gave me all this shit about progressive thinking, and asked me to be ?discreet? about his interests here at the office, and told me what a sensitive feminist he was, all the time he was trying to get a look at my panties under my skirt, the son of a bitch. Men are like, confused cobras—they want to strike, but. Luke was finishing off a pan of scrambled eggs, but fumbled his spatula at the bland utility of her answer. “Uh, the eggs are ready. Bacon’s on its way. You’ve got bagels and fruit. The fridge is pretty empty, but can I get you anything else?”“Juice? I know we kinda covered you, each other, and your bed with it last night and this morning, but at the moment I’m in the mood for something that doesn’t taste like pussy. Not that I won’t be right back to drinking from that well at the earliest. ’ Taylor, good old, model-thin, perceptive Taylor, had obviously realized she’d put her slender, vermilion-red thumb nail on the problem of my life and of my manuscript and had continued on, not pausing for me to tell her how frigging perceptive she’d been. She was so perceptive that she knew the precise page I was working on when I’d baked those blueberry muffins. I looked on dully as she put the manuscript down and raised the trim black jacket from the back of her chair and began to put it.