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The snarling car, the leather seatscaressing her bum, the red lights in the gauges, and the expectation of themeeting, especially it?s outcome, all of it she found erotic. She let it beerotic. She wanted it to be. She had let it build until as she replayed the scenesto be in her mind, until now her throat was dry and her erogenous zonestingled. She was feeling sexy. She was feeling deadly. She wasgoing to drive away from this meeting a rich woman. For ten months she has beenarbitraging the hostile takeover of one manufacturing firm by another. It wasall big fish eating little fish so far as she was concerned. The thing thatjust struck you was how incredibly rich it was making some of the officers ofthe target company. In exchange for their cooperation and silence, they hadbeen allowed to sell short their company?s stock, long before the takeoverbecame public. She had seen this before, how the power set took care ofthemselves first, she decided that this time she would have to see. ‘Anything good in the paper?’ a pleasant question begged as it drifted through the summer scented air of the house. ‘Nothing that I see yet, sweetie,’ O’Connor’s voice answered back loudly, but happily. He looked through the headlines and saw that most of the news was depressing, and almost all of it was either city news or world news, but nothing that really pertained to their quiet little suburb. He softly padded through the house, winding through the rooms until he reached the kitchen. He stopped in the door way, looking over the top of the paper and took in the sight before him. She was standing at the sink, rinsing something off, the perfect woman, the goddess. She wore a robe similar to his own in all respects except size: her petite but exceptionally curvy frame would have looked like she was trying to swim in her husband’s robe. Her sash was tied tighter, her long dish-water blonde hair hanging limply to her lower back, flowing straight down into her nicely rounded ass. Her.
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