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I reach for the hem of his shirt which he wordlessly takes off. When he does it gives me a chance to admire him. His toned stomach, caramel skin flushed, and the way his arms flex as he does the movements of taking his shirt off. With our shirts cast to the side I unbutton my pants which he takes over. He kisses me a final time before moving to my neck. He found my spot easily and began to darken the skin. Nipping and biting making me moaning mess in front of him. When he felt the mark was enough he moved on. Kissing down my stomach, stopping at the top of my jeans. He kissed me there and pulled my pants down. He threw them where our shirts lay. Standing there in my matching bra set, I felt vulnerable as if he could me and through me. He picked up one my legs and placed it on his shoulder. He trailed light kisses to my most sensitive place. He moved my panties to the side and blew. My knees shake at the impending pleasure I was sure to endure. Quaking as his tongue finally touched. I think the Americans call it a power breakfast?’ Sharon went back to pulling my hair. ‘Jeremy, this one is surely trouble.’ I squeezed her thigh and asked, ‘Jeremy, how do we resist the charms of this incredible agent?’ He laughed, ‘I am happily married, Adrian, I am afraid you will have to do the honors.’ She sniffed, ‘He already has too many girlfriends. How do I compete?’ Our papers got us past a blast barrier and down a narrow passage into an underground garage. A woman was waiting at the elevator with badges and passes. ‘Good morning, follow me please.’ The route was circuitous and I didn’t attempt to keep track of where we were going. The guide ushered us into an anteroom, and then into a spacious conference room, where six or eight bodies were already seated being served coffee and small pastries. Halfway down on the far side sat Tom Carruthers, with Sing and Anne on either side. I froze for an instant as the shock of seeing Anne went through me. None of the three of them met.
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