Pritchard showed him into her office. He took the offered seat in front of her desk."Would you like some coffee, Colonel?"He looked at the huge coffee...maker and grinned inwardly. That thing had more computing power than a space shuttle. Mrs. Pritchard pushed a number of buttons, following a menu on the colour display. The machine made a lot of grinding, gurgling and farting noises before a coffee-like fluid squirted into a white china cup. Mrs. Pritchard gave him the cup and sat down in her own. It was amazingly tight and she squeezed my cock with it like she was trying to cut it off inside her. I had to pull out, here I was driving a Lamborghini when the fastest thing I’d had experience with was a Mazda. I tested the ass-to-pussy waters and received no negative feedback, so I drove into her cunt again. She dropped her head and shoulders onto the bed and said “Yes” as I fucked her still soaked pussy for a few strokes, then her tight as fuck ass, then pussy again. As I switched back. Hanna tore it open and read the memo inside. "We're to isolate the Claiborne Prep program," she told Greg. "It's to be listed under something else, and buried; keyword access only. It's signed by Dr. Phllips." She handed Greg the memo. "Why didn't he just send us an email?" They can be read by outsiders," Greg replied. "All emails are archived and indexed. A note like this leaves no trace." In other words, he's preparing for the worst." Looks like it." Greg pulled himself over to his control. Robina initially grumbled at the idea but realised it was a throwback to their early college days. He did like the little schoolgirl look even then, but she was not enamoured with the idea of wearing those perennially uncomfortable suspenders. She insisted in retaliation that Mark should hire a Minstrel costume, which wasn’t easy to find. The party was such that any non PC attitudes would be laughed off and she would make him black his face also.MaryAnne - Robina’s sister, who was looking after.