I couldn’t believe I was finally fucking a guy, a guy who loved cock as much as he did.Now with both hands on his hips I stepped up the beat and beg...n pumping hard to the hilt with every thrust. Jon was panting hard and as I reached around to wank his lovely penis, he started moaning and he pushed his ass back firmly onto me to see if I could go deeper. I could tell he wanted more. I pulled my dick out quickly then re-inserted just the head and waited. The moaning stopped and he looked around. " Nope," I denied it."Why do you want to see Mr. Valmaat?" Simple, I want a real job." This is a real job," she said."Every piece of paper I picked up had already been passed by someone higher up ... that's not a real job." I said, "Even the mailroom clerk has a real job."So ... she made a call and Dalmar came down."Finally," he said. "Run into something you can't figure out?" Nope." I said, "I want a real job ... like mailroom. If I'm going to run this place when you die ... yeah ... you won't. I got out of the shower, dried off and watched closely as I positioned thetits. I loved the way they looked and felt as I watched them bounce andjiggle freely. I put on the panties and experimented with ways to hide mycock. Since the panties were so tight, it looked best when I pulled my cockback between my legs. It made it look so good, it looked like a real cameltoe. It was really hot. I pulled on the costume. Admired my cleavage andsmiled at how short the skirt was. I put on the boots. They. I didn't forget about her but then, I didn't contact her either. Alex and I had broken up, so I was ready to move forward in another direction. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I took the one less traveled by."That road led me to Paris and a culinary school called La Cuisine Paris. I had adequate knowledge of the French language since my dad, as a military attaché, fell in love with my mom, a French teenager. We lived in Paris until I was six. Besides teaching me French, Mom encouraged.