![]() I swear nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I marvel at the feeling of her small palm in my grip, tingles shooting up my arm at the first brush of her skin against mine. She looks down at my hand like it's a snake that's going to bite her before she slowly reaches out and places hers in mine. I’m willing to take any excuse I can to touch her. “Warren Foxworth,” I formally introduce myself as I hold out my hand to her. If the way she ran from me is any indication, her memory of me probably isn't as glowing as mine is of her. My smirk turns into a frown when I recall the way she ran from me. I'm pleased beyond measure that she at least remembers me. I raise an eyebrow and can't help the slight smirk that overtakes my face. ![]() Her eyes widen as she looks up at me, her mouth falling open into a little “o” that I want to stuff my cock in. I readjust my suit coat to hide my growing bulge before I come out from behind the desk. It calls to something primal within me, and I feel my cock swelling in my slacks. I can smell her sweet berry scent all the way across my office. ![]() I have every curve of her body committed to memory by now, but it's so much different seeing her in the flesh like this. ![]() ![]() I’m assaulted by the look of her in person. Why does the Microwave Make the Food Hot but Not the Plate? ![]()
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