She’d been incensed then, and hadn’t typed a response. His constant use of diminutive endearments for her grated. He hadn’t earned the right. If...she could have slapped the power button on her computer she would have, but as it was a Mac she closed it down and seethed quietly, ire unvented by physical expression. She had an early morning coming up the next day, so she hit the bed right after a quick facial scrub. She was having a hard time getting the chat out of her head, though, and sleep. He made his way down to the security console, and saw Art Slavens waiting patiently. He buzzed the door open and yelled to Bonnie that it was Art. By the time Art had gotten to the inside door, Bonnie was standing beside Al, wearing one of his old bathrobes.After saying hello, Bonnie went into the kitchen and started preparing an old fashioned breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast."You guys owe me big time," Art said, exuding smugness."When Bonnie gets back I'll tell you why."Art took in Al's. I did not look back as he approached the chair, but as he pushed into me, I just opened-up, with enough friction to fire and trigger my nerve endings, as he ploughed and fucked me, causing my bum to wobble and bob, making 'Pussy-Farts' as we fucked like teenagers.The boy was endowed with a massive 8 inches, a generous girth and a tight ball sack, the contents of which were stirring and mixing with seminal fluid, soon to be pumped into me, and as I ground his hairy pubis hard against my bum, his. The big issue, as I continued to open and examine the attached files, was how to answer the huge questions that popped up into my head at the moment:1. Why was someone sending information about an FBI Supervisory Special Agent to a contractor for the Department of Defense? And, was it Lana, or someone else working on her contract with Tamerlane?2. Why did the attachments to this email appear to point to Supervisory Special Agent Emmett Van Horn's having unusual sources of income--well above his.