I immediately flipped open my ID and held it out for the security team to verify; all routine, nothing to worry about, if you're armed and planning to cause trouble, shoot the lady with the badge first because she's got a gun and knows how to use it. I felt so much safer knowing I had the Department of Homeland Security watching out for me. I should have just worn my FBI windbreaker; at least it would have made it easier for my guest to spot me.The flight landed within minutes of its scheduled arrival time. I stood back out of the way and waited for my contact to find me. I assumed the brain trust in Washington would have given her a picture of me. They must have because within minutes a woman was standing in front of me. If Morticia Addams and Natasha from the old Bullwinkle cartoon show had a love child I imagine she would look like this. She was tall-ish, maybe five-ten, built like a runway model, small breasts, straight hips and all, with long straight black hair ending somewhere. It never gets old hearing it, and the way he was touching me all over, even if it was through my clothes, was getting me fired up. I closed my eyes for a second as I felt my pussy throbbing, and clenching down onto nothing, wishing his cock was still inside of me. I had no idea what time it was but for that minute, I didn't even care. I wasn't even thinking about it. Here we were, standing in front of the bathroom sink of a ther****t's office, staring at each other and ourselves in the bathroom mirror, with his hands still roaming up and down my body right after fucking over the counter. He started kissing my neck from behind me, while still feeling me all over. His hot breath gave me chills and I considered telling him he had to go, because it was getting to be more than I could take, and that if he kept it up I'd end up jumping his bones again.Instead, I said, humorously: "You came all the way up here with a rose just to get some pussy in a bathroom?" He kind of chuckled and said.
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