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Jack answered the door promptly. It was weird to see him without his usual suit. Casual pants, a button down shirt. Socks on his feet.“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I’m thinking that I may want to put this house on the market and move to one closer to the water. I would also like a little bit more privacy, as my neighbors are just way too close.”“Not a problem,” I said. “I was very flattered that you contacted me, and I am looking forward to servicing you”. The minute the phrase came out of my mouth I regretted it. Freudian slip for sure. He looked a little taken aback for a minute, then without skipping a beat he replied, “When would you like to start?” Umm….what? He followed with, “Do we need to look at market reports you brought first, or contracts, or did you want to walk through and see the house?Okay, so he didn’t mean what I thought he did. What the hell was going on with me? Was my ego just looking for a little stroking today?I received the guided house tour, and then we. I next 2 minutes, she experienced a mind blowing orgasm. Her pussy contracted and slimy discharge with musky smell came out of her pussy. It was salty and a bit sour at the same time.I stood up. She came back to senses and ran in to the bathroom. I followed her. She was hesitant and struggled to piss in front of me. After sometime, she pissed on the bathroom floor and washed her pussy. She came out of the bathroom and I held her from the back. I started kissing her on her neck, ear lobes and pressing her breasts. She told me that she needs to report in the hostel and requested me to leave her. I made her promise to me that she will definitely come to my room next day with simple dress and no undies. She promised and I let her go back to the hostel.Next day I was waiting anxiously for her. At about 7PM she knocked my door. I was only in my boxers without any undies. I opened the door and to my surprise, she was wearing a thick grey T-Shirt and a denim skirt. I invited her in to the.
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She wore a dark blue sweater, and a long, denim blue skirt that came down to her black stockings and black shoes. It actually was a nice color combination, setting off the asset of her long, red hair, but it was not an outfit that advertised availability. When she sat at her desk, as most people saw her, her slim figure did not fill out the clothing, which draped loosely on her frame. Now, though, as they walked, Dean saw her energy, and her clothing flashed interrupted images of her outlined figure. And her walk was purposeful, moving at a pace that Dean liked. A woman who did not mince words or take mincing steps, he realized. In the park, at the feet of the graven image of an almost forgotten political leader, they continued their exploratory conversation. ‘So you came to Washington and became a bureaucrat because of Reagan?’ Dean was amazed at this thought. ‘Yes. I wanted to see that our tax money was wisely spent. I already had some bookkeeping experience.’ She stiffened up and.

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