There was always someone from the administration at the security desk.The first coffee pot had just signaled it was finished and the men were going ov...r yesterday’s finds in the pictures of the dead. They were running Interpol searches and anything else they could think of when the President called that he could meet.I carried Bob’s prospective bid with me; it was one of the topics I wanted to discuss. He and I went through it page by page. We were sitting on the Presidential couch at a coffee. .. why would you say such a thing? I don't hate Morgan."Her daughter's pretty face with its large blue eyes was puzzled, and Fran started to say something else, but then she noticed there was something different about Jeanie, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Was it her voice, her mannerisms? The way she was dressed? Jeanie wore her robe and pajamas, nothing unusual about that, nor about anything else unless it was the soft womanly feeling of confidence that she exuded, the aura. I can tell that your tongue would be so soft.’ ‘And what would you do?’ I asked. ‘I’d get wet, all the places you touch, between my legs. I would cry at your touch, want to hold you, to feel you everywhere.’ ‘I am tall you know,’ I said. ‘So very tall and thin too. My penis would be excited and would be hard like a sausage only so much more stiff. I would want you to touch me.’ ‘I would. I would. I would love you, not just imaginary, but for real. I would touch your hardness, let my fingers run. She knew the rules of the game which, in much of the country, were quite stringent where sex was concerned. But in New York City the rules were more relaxed.Upon entering the room, the openmouthed kissing, caressing, and writhing began as the door was closing. Beth’s fingers worked furiously on the buttons of Josh’s fly while Josh was lifting the hem of her long skirt. Once his “barn door” was open she clutched at the swollen bulk inside trying to get a true feel of what she thought she felt.