“I'm B. You got my text messages. Normally, people read their messages right away. They don't ignore them.”“Sorry,” I swallowed. “I was just.....being professional.”She arched a violet eyebrow. “Fucking a futa while your camerawoman records is professional?” I flushed. “I guess not.”“Oh, it will be.” She moved closer, her futa-dick bobbing just an inch or two from my stomach, so big and thick, as ivory as her skin. “Once we make our deal and you become my patron. I'll grant your wish, make you. " She told me which one and a minute later I had it sitting in open in front of me on the counter. "I'm afraid that I don't have very many." "Should be what I need," I told her as I went to work on the sink. Then I grinned as I pulled out the duct tape, "This will fix anything..." It didn't take me very long to fix the problem, and when I was finished, Praxis seemed quite impressed. I guessed that between dinner and the sink, I was making a much better impression than I had before. I was just. More

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