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We found signs of a fight in the park but by the time we got there everyone and everything was gone except for several weapons we found in some trash cans. You?"I nodded and he continued. "We were in luck with the car. It hadn't been removed and the three bodies were still inside. Two were locals, high priced hitmen, the third we traced through Customs. He's only been here for a few days and is a high priced European named Kurt Adlai Gruber. Lately he has been working exclusively for Saeder-Krupp. Does that name mean anything to you?" No, should it? I've never heard of Gruber or Saeder-Krupp. I have enough trouble keeping up with what's going on here in this part of the world without worrying about Europe." If it's weapons they have their finger in it. They might not own controlling interest but they buy into other companies enough to know what's going on. They have part of Ares Macrotechnology Inc and another small company you might have heard of, Aztechnology. It was probably. He was sitting on an apark bench overlooking a neighborhood, eyes focussed on one house on theother side of the park."Bait time." He looked down on his phone, sending a text message to hisbest friend Carl Orthen.||Ey, man, come to my place, I've got a surpise for you.||||Allright, I'll be on my way.||Vincent didnt need to wait long before he could see Carl leave his home,get in his car and drive away."Right, round trip to my place, plus some confused waiting. 30 minutes.Tops."Vincent got up, and walked with a brisk pace to the two-floored woodensuburban house painted a sharp shade of white with a red roof. It was aplace he'd visited many times before, but this time it waswith...hostile intent. He rang the doorbell and waited.Miss Aren Orthen was a woman in her mid forties, but time hadn't caughtup with her too much yet. A tall blonde woman with a warm face and anever warmer smile. While her figure wasn't anything of much note, herface had always been the prettiest part of her. She.
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Once she had me making that limited contactwith her, she would amuse herself by toying with my nipples. She thoughtit was funny to tell me that they were sensitive like a girl's. I wouldsquirm and make tortured sounds of failing self-control and, when shestarted moving her hips to add to my arousal, I would shoot off longbefore I wanted to.To me she said, "You remember Ronny, don't you Rona? The problem he hadwith premature squirting, getting it all over my pussy?" Yes, Ma'am," I answered, all shame-faced. It was so awful to have torefer to my male self as someone who was gone and just a memory."And I seem to forget," she went on, "what was it Ronny had to do afterhe lost control of his little winker?" He..." I hated having to confess this, especially in front of Mike,even though both of them had heard me make the admission before. "...had to use his mouth to clean up the mess. And while he was down therehe had to keep going until he provided you with an orgasm, which he.

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