He knew he'd beenfortunate. At only twenty-nine years old, he was the CEO of a multi-million dollar pharmaceutical empire. 'If only I had Marissa.' Th...intercom buzz interrupted his thoughts. He pushed the button. "Yes?" Sam Murphy is here for his appointment, Mr. Garrett." Send him in, Anita."Sam Murphy entered the office and offered his hand. They shook. "Thanksfor seeing me, Mr. Garrett." Call me Dan. Have a seat, Sam." He watched as Murphy settled into theupholstered chair. He'd always liked. He pulled her of his cock and pushed her slightly away from him preventing her from cleaning him. Her head was reeling from the force and speed of his fucking; by the time her head had cleared he had put his cock away and resumed eating as if nothing had occurred.She briefly heard him say he liked a rough fuck and enjoyed using a good mouth for its real purpose. She knelt in front of the guest, wishing she could smooth her hair down and get the sour taste of him out of her mouth. Again she was. We ride 20-25 miles. It is beneficial cardiovascular exercise, and we like riding the rail trails." Rail trails, what are those?"Communities have taken abandoned rail lines and converted them to bike trails. They are paved and relatively flat with little incline. We are by no means Tour de France riders, but more like leisurely sightseers," I explained."Sounds like fun. Could we try one today? "Are you prepared? We wear padded biking shorts, it can be torture on your posterior, I warned. 20-25. It was his work room. His office at home. The table was handmade. It had been made inside the room and that was why it was still there. The only way to take it out would be to take it apart. The old owners hadn’t wanted the hassle and had sold it to him with the house. It made the perfect place to spread out work. He segregated the table into two sections, one for each victim. The files were open, pictures taken out of the manila envelope and placed next to the files. His notes were taken out.