‘It’s our replace. Go, go! Matt will kill us for using it, but our blasted editor will kill me if I publish crap. I’ve decided to postpone my ex...cution!’ ‘Bugger me,’ said Mayor Rowlands, looking at the big photograph on the front page. ‘My photo was removed but they have replaced it with this awful one of Curtis. Bloody awful of him, isn’t it? It will cost him the election, although I have it won already.’ The executives gathered around him obediently nodded in unison. At that stage none had. She worked one finger into the tight hole and sunk her fingers in up to her knuckles. Sliding her fingers in and out she pounded into her pussy like a jackhammer, with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Although she looked pretty and proper most of the time she didn't like to have sex, she liked to get fucked, rough and hard without all of the romantic crap that the media said she should enjoy.As her hole loosened as she became more excited she slipped a second and then a third finger. Whatever she did, it was by choice."But!" She laughed and dropped her hand. She knew my respect for her prowess - and, more importantly, simply for her. "But!"I nodded ruefully. "I know."Indeed I did. She was working with the Jaycees (yes, they exist and even flourish in the Big Apple) on the Special Olympics, a sports competition for "special" children. "Special" meant what we unenlightened but no-less-loving folk used to call "retarded," for the most part, and frequently, physically disabled.. .. but... but...." But there are no buts. None of the reasons she seemed to have only moments ago for turning down Brandon's offer come to mind now. She has absolutely no reason not to dance again. The moment she realizes that, she smiles and with her mind on the stage, she fingers herself to an orgasm almost as good as the one she had last week. Almost... --- "I'm so glad you decided to join us again." Brandon and Rebeca are in the dressing room where Rebeca is busy deciding what her outfit.