Rati 2:30 waje miss call mari bhabi ne mai phone kitta.M: hanjiB: ki kardeM: tuhanu yaadB: acha g?M: bilkulB: dso fr number kyo ditta cM: mai tuhanu p...asand karda te tuhade sohnepan te fidda a.B: acha g..Galla ta badia wadia karda tuM: gallan to ilawa hor v bathera kuch aanda…Moka ta deoB: jaya nai hogea kuchM: chalo jayada nai karange…B: besharamM: chalo milo ta sai frB: pagal o es wele mera husband v ghar a sas vM: mainu nai pta bs 5 mint lai kothe te ajeoB: par tuci kothe te kiwe aoge? Tuhada. It must have been in some kind of bun or something because it fell much longer than I had expected it to, nearly to the small of her back, sleek and straight and glossy black. I could see her pert, firm tits not-quite filling the plain purple bra she wore. The cups gaped down a little and I could see her wrinkled brown nipples stiff within. Her taut belly heaved, and she rubbed me back and forth across her stomach, making me groan louder. I let go of her, clenching my hands into fists to. The manager, Larissa, gave her a business card and mentioned that her personal cell number was written on the back and to call her for drinks or ‘whatever’. I didn’t look up from my lists but said, coldly, “I don’t think Emily would appreciate you soliciting business on her time, Larissa. Besides, Dr. Franklin is doing research for a paper and doesn’t have time to ‘Pay-for-Play.” Larissa glared at me but turned and walked away without another word. I had a reputation for protecting what was. Usually I *was*!You see, Gerry was a knockout, a sex bomb. She had a fantastic figure with prominent breasts and a nice jutting butt. She had a habit of reaching with her right hand, under her left breast into her left arm pit as she was talking with me. This served to push her breast up and in, accenting the visible cleavage. I was powerless; I had to stare. Often, I suspected, she didn't wear a bra. Sometimes when I'd give her a hug, I'd be sure of it. She was chief among my illusionary women.