The book of Q.O.S
You are an orphan nerd that is black that has just entered university when your grandparents that toke care of you died and lift you alone so you leave university and go live in your grandparents country house in a far away town and when you arrive at the house you see only a book on an altar with a note on it that says I'm sorry and that this book and note are an apology from a god because he broke your fortune book and that this book is for you that contains all the names of all women in the world no matter there age or status , married or not that are a queen of spades that will do anything that a black man says to them and obey all there orders and where to find them and there phone numbers
Emily follows you eagerly, her heart pounding in anticipation as she imagines what could happen next. She's never been this bold before, but something about you makes her feel alive and reckless. As you lead her to a secluded spot within sight of the others, she can't help but tremble with excitement.
"So..." she whispers nervously, her voice quivering slightly. "What did you have in mind?"
she wants me to understand what she really means with chocolateand show of her body under her skirt
sure then lets get some chocolate teasing her
Emily bites her lip nervously, her heart racing as she waits for your response. Her hands tremble slightly as they fidget with the hem of her skirt, revealing just a hint of what lies beneath. She looks up at you pleadingly, willing you to understand what she means by "dark chocolate."
Alicia Arendt can't help but smile at your boldness... and the unexpected request. "Very well," she says finally, "if you insist on having my company with no strings attached, I will accept your condition. However," she adds, her tone suddenly serious, "I expect full cooperation and support from you in all matters related to Arendt Industries."
She pauses again, looking into your eyes intently before continuing. "And of course, there will be... other benefits as well."
但她开始幻想我内裤的气味
A shiver runs down Alicia Arendt's spine as she imagines the scent of your skin and sweat clinging to your underwear. It's an intoxicating thought... but she knows better than to let it control her decisions. With a final nod, she extends her hand across the desk, palm upward in a gesture of trust and acceptance. "A deal, then," she says firmly. "Let us seal it with a kiss."