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Almost hitting his head on gagging the top of the door, Jordan ducked his head and wove between the two others trying to slip in. Whose fantastic idea was it to have the fucking hobbits measuring the height of the doors in Wellington, anyways? He'd only been back in the New Zealand capital for a month, and he was already missing America. He took a moment to share a wry glance and a quick grin with the other two, as they embraced a solemn moment of camaraderie, three fallen men, defeated by time and their inability to manage it. The moment quickly ended, as Jordan strode to the quartet of elevators, drawing upon the probably-faster-but-fuck-stairs training he had been perfecting for most of his adult life. The elevators, of course, took the longest thirty seconds of his life to crawl down to him, as he jogged impatiently on the spot like a 12 year old told he isn't allowed to go to the bathroom until the bell goes. The elevator area smelled vaguely of citrus, undoubtedly some cleaner's attempt to change it up. He could appreciate that. Gotta make the best of a bad situation, right? Jordan shook his head - he could hardly imagine a thing worse than cleaning up after an entire building of entitled fucking bureaucrats like him. The bell finally tolled as the door ground open excruciatingly slowly in front of him. He half dived into the metal box of death, and impatiently jabbed a button until a faded "three" lit up with a dull blue glow. Gripping the swipe card around his neck like a holy talisman, Jordan zipped out of the elevator and swiped through the two security doors to his floor. The scratched black lettering blowjob on the wall read Level 3, Operations Support and Improvement. Making the decision to rush to his desk to verify that he was only a couple of minutes late, Jordan zig-zagged through BDSM the various teams on the floor, occasionally absently nodding or waving to colleagues he knew. His target in sight, Jordan halted his speedy entrance and adopted a cumshot casual stroll Hardcore the remainder of the way - the goal of seeming like he wasn't worried about being late already half defeated by the redness lining his cheeks and the slight puffing of his complaining lungs. He checked his phone. Deflections of proper usage, were often pointed out to me with scruffs to my neck or boots applied to my hindquarters. Cinched at the waist it did nothing to hide the fact that she was sporting a large gagging bust. I called my friend Bonnie. I just didn’t know when or what I would say. Kayla asked, a hint of curiosity and jealousy in her voice. Her body shook and shivered for a few moments before she slumped down against his chest, breathing heavily. He saw me and began walking over to our table as he took off his raincoat. Jeff tugged on the strap again to make doubly sure his blowjob sister couldn't Hardcore possibly move. I was so overwhelmed. “Take out your cock baby… BDSM “ cumshot I said as I keep fucking my son’s cock with my busty MILF tits. That huge line of cars breathing down our exhaust pipe. "You desire your son.