Those extras were the White House official photographer and someone to document every person I talked to and every word I said - if they could get clo...se enough.I needed to have Robert scan my things to see if the agency had planted any bugs on me or any of my things.It was 2200 when I finally got home, the boys were in bed a few minutes later. I ran all the Secret Service agents out of my living quarters and to their own assigned areas or their rooms, whatever the case might be.The girls and I. Looking up, she said, "Make sure you get everything you want from her, Jean! Grab her head and haul her around to the itchy spots!" Jean did as she was bid, burying her fingers in Beth's thick, springy hair and getting full coverage on her clitoral hood, then pulling her head down to get a tongue-fuck. Cocks were better -- especially Toby's -- but this was nothing to sneeze at...Beth had been mortified at Jean's arrival and Candace's instructions, but Candace had clearly asserted herself on. . , “ Natasha freaked out rather predictably, like clockwork.“Bet you’re wishing that your own mother was still alive. I don’t know what happened to her, do you? I just know that she’s dead for some odd reason. What’s wrong with Aunt Nora, again? Maybe it should just be me, Mom, and Chelsea here. Blood kin, you know!” I taunted the girls further.“No ... please, Aunt Nora is a ... a ... a,” Heather stammered now.“A what, Heather?” I persisted.“A ... dyke! A lezzie, okay? She’s gay!” Heather. So of course, here I am. ~*~ She isn’t in the next room I come to, but I can hear her in the one adjoining. I realise it’s a bathroom a split second after I step forward to glance in the door. Unblemished white skin gliding in rich, Reubenesque lines from skull to shoulder, shoulder to ribs and elbows, ribs to hips to knees to ankles, elbows to wrist and hands. Nothing but translucent skin and a faint sheen of rain between those dangerous curves and my eyes. Too far. This is too far. I step.