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January 24 - January 25, 2025
“Well, Mr. Dymon, if that is the definition of an executive assistant, then that number on the offer sheet I signed yesterday needs to double, and I need a work phone too because I refuse to have you ordering me around on my personal phone. I will turn that phone off with the quickness, and you will instantly disappear. Poof.”
“You out your fuckin’ mind,” he whispered.
“Get back to work before I have my dick down your throat in here.”
“Okay. Oh, and, Mr. Dymon...” He looked at me. “Don’t ever let a bitch disrespect me again.”
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Her pretty ass wasn’t playing fair. I’d never in my life sucked on no shit like that, but the minute I did it, I was ready to bust her wide open. She didn’t know that she was getting me sprung one session at a time.
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“I love you, Quinci,” he whispered in my ear. There it was. He didn’t say, Princess, I love you. He said, Quinci. “I love you, Quinci.” That was real. That was outside of the expectations that he’d set…we’d both set. Those words were the reason that I’d cried while he made love to me. Those words were the reason I let him work himself in my asshole. Anal sex while high, tipsy, and emotionally high was the best journey I could’ve ever taken my body on. When he was done filling my ass with his cum, he said, “Please, don’t leave me.”
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“To show our babies, once they grown, how crazy I had their mom looking after dropping dick in her.”
“Well, since we are going to be living in New York, I might have to apologize to…” She sighed in annoyance. “I’m going to have to apologize to Cruella De Vil and Scar for disrespecting them in their home.”