I really didn't believe that the shit I was giving her would work, but it did. I really expected her to laugh in my face and call the police. Maybe it...was my uniform, the prospect of police all over the place plus fear for her job, but she pulled a key with a tag that read Room 112. In all this time she had not said one word. She just pushed the card to me and stood there with her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide."I took the card and then put my finger to my lips, indicating that she was. My body was now very close to being Mark's, so I looked almost nothing like Ron. Mark's photos had been publicized somewhat, but not much, and not for quite a while. [The THOUSANDS of international media representatives, self-important politicians, dignitaries from all over the world, self-appointed international religious investigative groups, university and other research organizations, and all sorts of other people who wanted to meet/interview/test/worship/suck-up-to me (excluding Jessica. "I have cramps," she said and shuddered," It is normal, don't worry about it!"Ten minutes later, she managed to sit up in the bed. Right before my eyes, her body sprang to life. It was amazing. As if some invisible force was reviving her. She reached out and rubbed my chest, then drew herself closer. My hands slid up her legs, feeling the shape of her exquisite muscles. Her right foot pressed decisively against my crotch. I felt my penis hardening, gently rubbed by her stockinged sole. She sat. "Yes" I heard myself say."Yes what? I want to hear you say it." she demanded, still stroking my cock."I want to lick you clean after I cum on you." I moaned."Now you'll get the chance to see what it tastes like" she teased, rubbing my cockhead against her nipple. My cock was still leaking copious amounts of precum, which served to make everything nice and slippery. In my heightened state of arousal, the world centered around my cock and her rapidly stroking hand."I'm so close" I hissed through.
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