My gaze slowly drifted downward until it locked onto my hard-on as I continued imagining my last encounter with her rack. I'm so fucking glad she can'... hear my thoughts.After thirty minutes of sheer ear-boredom she dismissed me from her lecture on perfumes and dresses she had been considering on purchasing for our planned date that Friday. I was just glad she was a material chick and not all clingy. I could handle her easily… and she hadn't complained about my handling of her either.Name's. Nothing can get inside without my permission.”“It’s gorgeous,” she said, although she realized it reminded her of the cursor from The Sims. Tricia leaned down and smelled a bouquet. “Love the flowers.” She thought for a moment. “What was that big red ‘one’ near the White House? Looked like it was made out of roses?”“World War One First Infantry Division memorial.”“I never knew about that one.”Snow Angel floated back into the room, and returned with two glasses of white wine. She handed one to. More

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