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If she decided to come clean I might let her keep a job. I found myself wishing I had a Deirdre Walters to act as hatchet man, so to speak. I reached a decision.Sliding up close, I lowered my voice and said, "Roxie, here is the deal. Both your bosses have fucked up big time. I don't know the details yet, but they both know better than to freeze out the person that signs the checks, which would be me. Right now, you are no longer the receptionist for this office. If you want to have some job by Monday, tell what is going on." While I looked into Roxanna's eyes, I remembered the set of Sheila's jaw, as she coiled the Cat for that last strike. That would forever be my definition of grim.It must have worked. Roxanna caved like a set building in a windstorm. "Richard said that no one would come in, much less the chairman. He's been over at Sony trying to steal a script, or so he says. I think he is trying to steal the VP of Casting position. Mr. Thomas is just in Bakersfield with his. He kept sweet talking me, telling me how beautiful I looked. How hot I was making him! I didnt know what to say, I think all I did was blush. We were about halfway to my house, a good 45 minute drive left to go, when Joe, the truck driver said he had to take care of some business and pulled over. I thought he was gonna get out and water the plants. You can imagine how surprised I was when he jumped back into the sleeper and yanked his pants down, pulled out an enormous cock and start stroking it. What the hell is happening? Even more shocking was the fact that I couldnt keep my eyes off of it or the fact that I was pinching the nipples on the breast forms and rubbing my crotch like I had a clit! So heres this guy stroking his HUGE cock while I watched with all the interest in the world. After a few minutes he said his arm was sore and could I take over? I think I jumped in the sleeper and had his cock in my hand in less than a second. What the hell was I doing? This cock had to.
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They did this often. She liked looking at the pictures later. Conan would tell her she looked beautiful on them and she believed it. They were aesthetically pleasing. It was a wet and humid summer evening and the atmosphere in the Rumpo Room was stifling and oppressive. They were both dripping with sweat and outside of their breathing the only audible noise was the rain beating on the roof. Raising her head risked dislocating her shoulders so she stared at the floor, her long flowing locks just inches above the bare cement floor. She could not see what Conan was up to but could hear him in the background, rattling around as he arranged things. She heard the clink of a bottle catching a glass. Then rustling, the scrape of a table being pushed near her. Suddenly Conan dropped to the floor on his knees and pressed his face against her. Alexandra smelled the whisky on his breath and in short, she was afraid but she could not scream, all she could do was press her tongue helplessly.

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