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As I squeezed my body through the metal ducts I hadvisions of getting trapped in them, and the trouble I would get intowhen I was rescued. If I was rescued. The thought of Rowan Morrison inpain drove me on and I struggled on until at last I reached her privateroom and crawled out from the vent, where I gazed at her face.Her soft brown eyes were closed and her long black hair had beenfreshly combed, and to my horror I noticed blood on the sheet thatcovered her. As I reached to pull it off, something crashed down uponthe back of my head. When I woke, groaning in agony, three members ofRowan's security team were frowning down at me. "We have the murdererright here," said one. "His fingerprints were on the shotgun. Hestalked her in the woods and he shot her and that's what we'll all sayin court. That's what these kinds of stalkers do. He had pictures ofher all over his bedroom, along with every piece of merchandise thatwas ever marketed, and every single magazine article. It's an open. She stopped, her hand staying on his leg, and looked up at him again. The look on his face wasn’t one she’d really seen before, it was animalistic but his eyes were gentle as they met hers. He leaned in toward her lips and kissed her roughly. She squeezed a bit more and he moaned into her mouth. He (finally) put the movie on pause. He slipped a hand onto her leg under the cover and moved slightly up her inner thigh. He trailed his fingers up her panties, bringing another wave of warmth through her. She ran a finger up his leg, she could feel him getting harder under her touch as he fingered the lace covering her. She began to stroke him through his pants as he continued to trace the lace as though he was a blind man. She could feel herself getting wet as he gently teased her lips, already tender from the moments by the pool. He moved her thong aside and slipped his finger into her pussy again. He stroked her hole gently then moved up back up to her clit. Her thong had tightened.
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"Lucas wasn't sure what changed in him after learning that Chuck was gone. He felt it in the morning. He woke up with an attitude. He woke up with a chip on his shoulder. It was great. It was actually great to feel something. Every morning for the past 4 years was greeted with apathy. When Chucky was dying he was starting his job.Luke pulled out his suit. Made sure that it wasn't wrinkled. He buffed his shoes and bee lined for the office. He grabbed his coffee from the Café and headed up to his office. Maybe it was the look on his face, or the way he walked, but Luke felt like everyone was moving out of his way.He opened his first email of the morning and read the hubris from the Marketing department. He then read the second email and released the feral smile that was threatening all morning.He clicked the reply button and fired back a concise response for everyone to see. He posed it as a question, but it was sharp enough to show a serious flaw in the project design.Two other emails.

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