I picked up the paper cup and knocked the remaining fries onto the floor with my elbow. I got up and trod on them as I moved across to sit opposite m... slave. Just pointing my gloved to the trodden mess I ordered slave to ‘get’.I placed the sharp heels of my shoes onto slave’s trainers, grinding and digging them until my slave started to squirm in pain. In front of my slave was a pile of trodden French fries, a soggy burger and a cup half full of my delicious liquid. ‘Time for lunch slave’ I. ", Jessica ask you."Um don't you have to be 18 to get into clubs?", you ask her."I am 18 Eric, I turned 18 about a couple months ago.", she informs you. "Happy late birthday, Jessica." You said her."Thank you Eric. Why don't we invite Hannah to the club too.", she ask."Hannah's not 18.", you corrected Jessica."Oh right, Hannah told me you just got here yesterday. Her 18th birthday was last week.", she informs you again. 'How could you forget Hannah's birthday?', you thought to yourself. You. Who would you be betraying?”“Probably about the top half of the list, I guess.”“And over time that number is going to be a smaller and smaller percentage. And I’m here to tell you there is very little you can do to prevent that from happening unless you divest or otherwise reduce the size of your company. You’re also at one of those ‘critical mass’ points where if you stop expanding, you’re likely to lose momentum, which would give your smaller, more nimble competitors an opening. The question. My pussy clenched. I hadn't been fucked hard in so many years. My husband wasn't doing it, but these eighteen-year-old boys would pound me hard.“Now,” I purred, my head sliding beneath Sean's desk. My hands slid up his denim pant legs, scratching at the fabric. I would give him a great time. He wouldn't know what hit him. My pussy was on fire as my hands reached his crotch. My fingernails rasped on the jeans. I found his fastener, popped the button. His zipper rasped down. Sean gulped. I could.