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Construction workers. Truck drivers. Bikers. Guys who know how to give me what I really want, which isn't a fucking "relationship." What I crave more and more these days is hard cock and lately, the more the merrier.Like last weekend. After a bitch of a week, I went home, took off my conservative corporate clothes, and put on my hunting outfit. I'm a brunette, but when I'm after sex I wear a silvery blond wig, lots of heavy eye shadow, rouge, and the sexiest clothes I can find. Usually, like last weekend, I put on a see-through blouse, with no bra, a black leather jacket, black leather micro-mini skirt, black garter belt, black stockings, and red bikini panties. When I'm looking for a hot fuck I never shower before going out. I like my pussy to retain the sweaty essence of a long day at the office, and just to add that last little tinge of seductive aroma, I don't bother wiping my pussy after I pee, either. I like the damp feeling the last few drops of urine cause in my panties, and. I was naked and aroused, standing in her bedroom. I wanted her to see me, naked and standing with an erection, to watch how I stroked myself for her. I looked at myself in the mirror, to see what she would see. Whenever I had gotten excited near her, I had hidden myself, ashamed at my arousal and afraid she would be shocked, but now I stood proud, letting it swing back and forth, beckoning. I was convinced that she would love me for it. Then I put her panties on. As I pulled them up, soft against my erection, my hands shook. I saw my reflection, flushed with excitement, wearing mom's white panties. They were so feminine covering my swollen maleness. I reached down to caress myself, but with the first touch I gasped, shuddered, and began to squirt, filling her panties with my sticky come. My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor. I don't know how long I just stayed that way. I was dizzy and out of breath. Then I heard mom come in. "Teddy, I'm home," she called out. I.
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‘They know nothing at all. Not a thing. That’s why they’re trying to position the women inside the agency. In the hope of finding something.’ ‘So we throw them out? Tell them they’ve failed the audition?’ ‘Not at all, Tony.’ Despite her sweet smile, Carmella’s business head had been working overtime since her conversation with Donald last night. She had a clear plan of action. Who was it that said ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer? ‘What would that achieve—they’d only look at other ways to infiltrate us.’ ‘But—’ ‘No buts, Tony. The plan is simple—we draw them in and feed them false information. That way we control what happens and we control them.’ Daly’s face changed as the simplicity of what Carmella was saying. ‘Sounds good,’ he murmured. ‘And we slowly bring them into the fold…’ He looked up at her quickly, a confused look on his face. ‘We do?’ ‘Of course,’ she huskily murmured, fluffing up her hair. It hung long and wavy over her shoulders. The colour tended to.

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