She looked up at the camera, caressing her body and moaning, sometimes glancing at his slowly softening cock.Once his breathing slowed, she said, “T...at was so good, but I really should get home.”He offered a grunt of acknowledgment, sounding a little disappointed, and slowly sat up.“Why don’t you go get me your phone, so I can give you my number, and then go get cleaned up,” she suggested.That cheered him up. He slid out of the bed, flexing as he bent to retrieve his phone from his pants. . It might have been sadness. It might have been a lot of playacting. He looked at me and added, ‘I’ll even make and keep a promise not to read your mind during the game, for a change.’ ‘Sure, it’s a deal, but any way it turns out, you’re buying the next round of coffee.’ I grinned at him. ‘I would rather drink blended pig intestines.’ To you, that might sound like sarcasm. I heard it as an honest craving. ‘It’s your move, Ken. Remember, I told you there are Twenty-one to choose from.’ I stared. She was tired. Not just physically tired, but mentally and emotionally exhausted from the weeks and weeks of training. And she knew it was only going to get worse. There were three more weeks of training before the tryouts, and then two years of work to prepare for the Olympics. She closed her eyes. She had no idea how long she had sat there when she was snapped back to reality by the doorbell. She wasn't expecting anyone. She stood up and went to the door and opened it. It was Rebecca. Winona. Jim is heading back inside when Tim arrives with the stuff Kim gave him, so Jim and Tim go to their mobile headquarters to discuss the action.Jungle takes the photo album to his mobile headquarters which is a coach bus converted to his needs. Inside it he stops to talk to his armourer, “Guns, how many of those purse popguns did you get locally, and how many of them are converted?” He’s asking about some .25 ACP sub-sonic pocket pistols he was getting ready for use in special situations.Due to.
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