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She’d just had her third orgasm. One from my tongue during foreplay, the other two from me pounding my meat in and out of her.We were shaking the crap out of her stepdad’s Altima. We’d been going at it for over 30 minutes, the windows were fogged up, and it smelled pretty ripe in there by now.“mmmmmmm” I groaned. The familiar sensation of an impending orgasm rippled through my body. “I’m gonna cum too babe.” I began pounding her harder.We were in the back seat. Danielle was laying at an angle, her head pushed up against the back door. Her legs were bent completely back so her knees were at her chest. I had a leg braced against the floor board and the other one kneeling on the seat. My hands were grabbing her ankles, which were just above her head. I was using them to support my upper body, you’d think this would’ve been uncomfortable for her, but she seemed to enjoy it more. I was looking down the length of our bodies and watching my cock pump in and out of her as fast as humanly. “Let me finish, young lady. Your behavior last night plastered on your internet page is abominable and a disgrace. Marcia, drinking showing your arse at work while performing duties on your internship is a grave offense. Your behavior up to this point has been commendable, so it is my judgment to earn a chance to put this behind us. He and I feel you need discipline and he has suggested instead of expelling you for drinking on your internship that I spank you, actually paddle you as a compromise punishment not to expel you from the Hospitality Management program.Before she knew it, Marcia found herself standing in Professor McManus’s Canal Building office which housed the college’s Hospitality Management program. He was removing his college heirloom Sigma paddle from his center desk drawer. It actually was a small black fraternity paddle in the shape of a plaque with a handle. He stood holding the object before her. Marcia froze almost wetting her pants from the sight of the.
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You said you counted them. How many were there?’ It was the first hint that the interrogator had a sense of humour. ‘I lost count.’ The young man is sarcastic. The interrogator’s lighter tone as emboldened him. ‘So who started the game?’ ‘I’ve told you, I don’t remember who started it.’ His voice is plaintive. There’s a discrete knock at the door. The interrogator leaves the room. He is gone only a minute but in that minute Paul’s anxiety increases exponentially. They’ve got him for the drugs, which is bad enough, but this old man on the bus – what’s he got himself into here? The interrogator returns, sits down and steeples his fingers before him. He studies his fingertips for a few seconds before speaking. ‘Mr. Kane, you are a most fortunate young man. I am given to understand that Dr. Roskow is safe and well. We still have to check out your story and that of your… companion, so you’ll be moving shortly to more comfortable quarters but, if you’ve been honest with me, you could be.

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