"'She asked the Secret Service man his name and ID. She wrote it down on her pad."What's that for?" he whispered.She whispered back, "you're outta her.... His Excellency doesn't like you. No respect." She wrote 'Call me' on the pad. Naturally, the SS knew her number ... probably tapped her line too."Are you sure you can't bring the globe," 'what ever that is' "in here?" Actually, your Excellency, this is the press conference room." Not my throne room?" No, your Excellency. I suppose we could make. Only she was alone, it seemed, and she didn't like it. Priscilla was very unused to being deprived of anything, and having been spurned by Mark Denning at the conference at the Radisson, the fire of envy and resentment burned strong. It had been almost two months, that time in his hotel room when she had taken his cock in her mouth and given him supreme joy, only to be rejected and turned out of his room and his life, in favor of that nasty little blonde bitch that sang in church and did. More

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