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"I don't need a drink. Thank you, though." I leaned forward, took the drink out of your hand and placed it on the table. I then slid off the edge of the table, onto the sofa next to you, leaned in and kissed your neck, right below your ear.You shivered, slid your arms around my waist and lifted me up to straddle your lap, kissing me hard as I ran my fingers through your hair. You slid your hands up my back, unzipping the back of my dress, then grasping the thin straps and pulling them down, exposing my breasts. You bent your head down to suck one nipple into your mouth.I moaned, enjoying the feel of your mouth on me, but then pulled your head back, kissing you again, then sliding back off of your lap to kneel on the floor in front of you. I slid my hands up your thighs, undoing your pants as you leaned back, making yourself comfortable. I pulled your cock out of your pants and started slowly stroking up and down with my hand. You moaned with pleasure at my touch, and wound one of. This morning in particular the confusion hung over him. He ran a hand across his face as if to clear the cob webs from his brain. Pancakes? His mother had not made pancakes since he was in kindergarten. Eggs, bacon, toast, sure, but not pancakes. Then he remembered. The woman. Jill was her name. The events of the previous day came flooding back like lahar flow after a volcanic eruption. The woman had flown thousands of miles to marry him based upon emails he had not even written. The idea seemed ridiculous, but what little he had seen of the woman, she seemed anything but the flighty type of feminine creature he would expect to do something so…crazy. Rolling over he looked at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed. Nine thirty-eight. ‘What the fuck?’ he spat. He never slept past oh-six-hundred. Not in years. Not even on vacation. It was programmed into his mind and body. His alarm clock was more for show than functionality. The girls. What about them? Where were they?.
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