”Morgan Fleetwood, if that was still the name he was using. If he was still with State. If he ever was. But he was a man who knew people. Got things...done.Despite my focus on the Mortons, on Beryl Thatcher, there was also that subliminal Wexler tick-tock nagging at me. Tick-Tocking somewhere down deep.Pilar looked at Gertie solemnly, “How come that oinker is getting more popular?”“Trump touched a nerve, connected with a certain part of America.”“Womp-womp.”Gertie looked down at her Tanqueray.I. His fingers buried in my pussy, moving in and out slowly, while his tongue tortured my clit. I squirmed against his face. I couldn't help it. It just felt so fucking good. I was moaning, my breathing was becoming so fast. His tongue on my engorged clit was incredibly making me hotter and hotter. He worked it in circles around my clit, then taking all of my clit in his mouth and sucking it. Then back to flattening his tongue and lapping at my swollen flesh. Watching his tongue on my clit made me. More

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