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"I parked beside the Dakota Dave had been driving and he directed Inez and me to get into it. A lovely middle aged woman in yellow slacks and a light blue blouse got out and traded into the Durango. Inez gave Norma and Jessica a kiss and we were off.Dave took us into an underground garage, and then we followed him through several hallways and doorways into a glass and steel structure to an elevator. We got off and went down a short hallway into a large meeting room. Don Gregory, the ad agent I had met with last year, was there with several other people.Dave stayed by the door as we entered and Don approached me with his hand out."Alex, it so good to see you again; and this must be your lovely wife. I'm sorry, my dear, but he didn't tell me your name when we met last year." That is because she wasn't my wife then, in fact, I hadn't met her yet. This is Inez, Don. Okay, folks, we need to get started quickly. You have all been kept pretty much in the dark until now. There are good. I played for a few seconds savoring the feeling as my fingers slid in and out. The next thing I knew I was slowly licking each one, from base to tip. Oh god what was happening to me! I could not believe that my deepest fantasy had been fulfilled and on a train! Images floated through my mind of her legs, her stockings, the exquisite scent that still lingered fresh on my fingers, the taste of her hardness playing tantalizingly on my tongue. I felt stirrings below as my own small cock begun to swell in response. I wanted! I yearned! Nothing compared to this, nothing. I was hooked. I was hers. I had to follow through no matter where this led. The browser had opened, showing a simple webpage. A red lipsticked kiss on a black background. I just stared. My treasonous finger made the decision, the graphic faded and was replaced with text in the same script as Auntie's card. "Well hello, my sweet one. I just knew you couldn't resist! What happens now is really up to you. I can show you.
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Once you sleep with her, she thinks she owns you. Otherwise, you’ll have to pretend you’re queer, but that will put you on the Bishop’s radar another way. . . I took a big gulp of my Scotch. FRIDAY The bishop’s car arrived at ten o-clock, a black Peugot pulled up to the curb and deposited father and daughter. Bishop Delacroix was a short, portly man with a red face, huge nose and straggly, white hair that he wore combed over. Violette Delacroix wore a teal Laurent original with a V neck and slit skirt over black, four inch heels. A tall extremely thin woman, her mousy hair was swept up in an elegant coif, and her pale skin was almost ivory. Her face was heavily pancaked, rouged, and lined, her mauve eye shadow clashed with her dark eyebrows and green eyes. Her chin was weak, her front teeth were exposed, and her eyes bugged out, the entire effect was the opposite of allure. When she spoke, her tone was grating and her attitude arrogant. She tried to imitate a runway model as she.

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