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She’s got potential. How else could she explain herself landing this gig, when so many other bright (to say nothing of well-connected) kids were turned away?Walking into the massive, glass and steel monstrosity that is the headquarters of the PPI Publishing House, she braces herself for what the day brings. It’s not an hour before her boss calls for her, screaming in a voice only a banshee could love.“Bancroft! Get in here!”Elena shuffles toward the corner office, head held high and expecting the worst.“You called?”“Bancroft, are you busy?”“No ma’am, I’m—““Good.” The tall blond cuts her off. “I’ve got a job for you.”“What kind of job?”The fortyish woman’s emerald eyes gleam slyly. Elena glances at the name plate on her desk. KATYE LEWIS. Her parents must have been beatniks to give her such a strange name.“Bancroft, are you even listening to me?”Elena startles.“Sorry, ma’am, I was distracted.”“I see.” Katye cradles her chin. “I am wondering if you could do me a favor.”The boss reaches. "Looks like he's finally up." she announced.Lilly pulled back with a loud and wonderfully nasty 'pop' and wiggled my dick like a joy-stick."He's been up for a while. But now he's awake, so the real fun can begin."Peggy giggled and wiggled her hips. I reached down with one hand and smacked her raised butt with my open palm."Ooooooh!" she squeaked. I ran my forefinger between her slick lower lips, dipping between them briefly then drew it up between the cheeks of her ass and pressed firmly against her tight little anus. Peggy groaned and arched her back, pushing my finger thru her anal ring. I slipped my middle finger into her vaginal tunnel all the way to the third knuckle and gave one cheek a hard squeeze.With my right hand I captured Izzy's left leg by the ankle and brought her foot up to my mouth, running the tip of my tongue from the heel up to her toes, licking and sucking on each one.Izzy laughed at first, sticking her tongue out at me, but by the second toe the combination of.
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.” A cold wet wind came through the double wing door all the way to the bar as the door flung open. The flames from the candles were blown so much it appeared very improbable that they'd stay lit. But they did. An elderly lady stepped in. A strong blast slammed the door closed once said lady had walked into the old tavern. Her tired and sad eyes scanned the whole place: the laboriously sculptured oak pillars, the small round windows, the wooden casks above the bar containing the best selection of single malt scotch. It all reminded her of a hobbit cottage a bit. Add the candlelight, the mother of a thunderstorm outside, all the people looking at her as though she was a ghost... the perfect atmosphere to tell a good story. Her eyes were pale, her face looked resigned. She slowly walked towards the crowd sitting at the bar. Big ol' Tom's broad smile was hid behind his thick mustache. He knew that this one individual would tell the one story that night. The one story that left no mouth.

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