"I hung up and felt relieved only for a brief moment before frustration with my situation overwhelmed me again.My phone beeped beside me as a text pop...ed in. Now what?It was a message from an unknown number. I started to feel sick for real as my face became hot and red. I opened up the message.---How are you feeling this morning?---Did I accidentally delete one of my friend's contacts? Or was this someone that knows what happened to me last night? I typed back.---Who is this?--- I stared at the. A large part of the story is really theirs and they should be allowed to tell it."Anyway," he continued, "it was all a trap, of course. Set up by deClover and that Malshall's bastard ambassador. Luckily for me deClover sprang the trap a little too early and some friends of ours were in the right place at the right time. It might not have mattered to tell the truth; we were expecting something, the whole setup stank like a day-old fish on the beach."But that's neither here nor there since he. And tell me you want to be my pretty girl, baby. His eyes widened.She moved on his cock, back and forth. Took the bra off his chest.Started rubbing his nipples. Tell me. It was a command.His look told her he would say anything now. Yes, yes, yes. I want tobe your pretty girl.She was down on him now, her nipples rubbing his, sliding across hischest, her pussy working his satin-encased cock.Ask me, baby. Beg me. Now, she said. Her tongue now on his lips.Please. Yes, please. Let me be. More like a caricature of a woman than a real one. Her heels clicked on the flooring as they approached."Oh, hello. Daniel, isn't it?" she asked when they got close. I think I earned some kind of acting award right then. I just about burst our laughing but I didn't. Did she really expect me to believe she didn't remember who I was? The woman who could cite from memory the earnings and demographics of some obscure singer from twenty years ago and she didn't remember the name of a man she slept.
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