His legs were already spread wide, and she could see his cock straining against the soft fabric. She knew he was not wearing boxers, so it was just th...t thin barrier between them. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him to fill her like no other man ever could, but for now, this was about him.She ran her hands up the inside of his thighs. Her hands gently brushed along the shaft of his cock, and she felt him throb and grow even harder. Her hands reached the waist of his pants. She ran her. It looked like a low-rise ball bearing factory. Undistinguished, could be anywhere. Except for the imposing wrought iron fence.Agent Morristown was as nondescript as his building. In his 50s, balding, round tortoiseshell glasses, navy blue suit.He had worked with Daddy for years. Homicide Captain Dave Jennings was one of the few local officials who willingly cooperated with the Feds. Daddy had told me, more than once, “The FBI is a resource, a useful tool. Fuck who gets the credit, solve the. More

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