Darla could feel her thighs start to shake and a shuddering moan escaped her lips as another climax washed over her that night. She felt herself grip onto Fiona’s fingers as her body collapsed into Edward’s strong embrace, the warm glow of her orgasm spread from her tingling pussy and her breath was heavy as she leant against his chest. She didn’t care when he lifter her off of her feet and laid her out on the bed, she was still buzzing from before, the cool sheets felt good against her hot skin as she rested there and slowly teased her nipples. The feel of someone joining her caused Darla to stir, she saw Fiona climbing onto the bed on all fours with Edward positioned behind her, her friend was in for a real treat of that she was sure. Fiona however, didn’t stop at the end of the bed. She crawled up towards Darla and Edward knelt behind her. Darla watched as her childhood friend slowly lowered her mouth down between her thighs. Slowly, ever so slowly she seemed to move, her tongue. With the management, it was always best to play convinced. The line cut, and with it, went the bottle of wine, the night of passion intended, and The Agenda. Again, forgotten. The meeting went as planned, the deal cut magnificently over dinner—even before coffee was served. In contradiction from what Travis himself had expected, his mind was not occupied with the afternoon’s plague. By the time Mr. Jenkins (his face of ‘the management’) and Mr. Delcrout (some Frenchman with obviously too much money) arrived at the St. McClean’s Steak House, all such questions were forgotten. His mind pushed out all other things and focused itself to the task. The deal was sealed with remarkable conciseness, and even Mr. Jenkins praised Travis for the transient dealings so that he’d be back home in time to watch the hockey game with his son. Travis smiled pleasantly, then returned to his own son-less home and no hockey game. What happened that night between Travis and Karen is something better.
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