No one at this bank would simply glance at me as a regular customer and pass me through. Everything had to be perfect.I was still worried about people...following me, so I walked from my hotel to the Hilton about half a mile away, and caught the hotel shuttle to the airport. Once there, I walked across to the parking garage where the taxi stand is. In a few minutes, I had a cab that took me directly to the bank.I asked to see a bank officer. You don’t want to talk to just anyone in a bank. There. You're very generous but at least I'llhave to go home to fetch some underwear and toiletries, right? I can'tpossibly go all week without clean underwear." I have underwear you could use," Denise said, seriously."Uh..." I stared, thinking that Denise couldn't possibly mean what Ithought she meant... You have men's briefs...?" No, silly. *My* underwear. I've got tons of underwear I never use, youcan help yourself!"My heart lurched in my chest. "But... but..." I said, "surely you don'tmean that I. It had a roof of treated oak shingles, also of trees off the property. It was a man's house, no doubt.He welcomed her in the shop out back, his design studio. She was there to bring him the specs for their latest client's demand."This guy is a pain in the ass. He wants us to be done in ninety days, but he keeps changing things. We did exactly as he asked and now it's not what he wants."She knew there had been a heated exchange between Charley and the client a few days ago. Charley had sent him. It looked obscene yet oddly inviting to the boy, who hadn't thought of his mother's anus for his prick to sink in. But here she was, asking him to do so.Stephanie noticed that her son was looking at her, maybe wondering whether he sure she'd asked him what she'd asked him, and reached back to let her fingers trail up and down the crack of her ass. Her fingers went into her cleft from above, starting at her tail bone, running deeper and lower and moving over her flexing, brown sphincter, rubbing.
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