She was not a reminder of captivity, but of freedom.She was probably crashing too. In the past few hours, they had to have been feeling the same jolts...of panic, the same heart racing and shallow breath of fear. The same exhilaration of flight. And even as the crash fell harder and heavier, Jagger's cock swarmed with voracious heat, growing hard in the wet, ill-fitting khakis he'd been given soon after his kidnappers had delivered him to the camp.The old woman started speaking in her language. As the rest of the week went on I kept a look out for cell messages from Jerome and found none making me believe he had given up. The next Monday she called me saying she would be working late again. The week after it was Wednesday. Then the week after that she was late on Monday. It really didn't seem right more so since the work she does never required overtime before. Each time she would come home looking very relaxed and every now and then with slightly messed up hair or clothing.The week. More

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