‘Good afternoon, Makena. Can I speak to you for a minute?’ Makena wanted to roll her eyes. How many different ways do I have to say ‘you can’t...have my goodies’ for him to get it? ‘How can I help you?’ she asked. John sat, uninvited, into one of the seats in front of her desk. He pulled out several menus. ‘Which one of these five star restaurants should I take you to tonight?’ he boldly inquired. Makena’s jaw fell off its hinge, hit the edge of the desk and rolled onto the floor. Taking a deep. Then he screamed, and she continued cutting. The first bright spray of hot blood made her groan, and the feeling of those bright red drops on her breasts and nipples made her sigh, but she concentrated on her work, trying not to cum too soon as she squeezed her butt around the cock she had once cut off. Gasping as one testicle was now dropped into the stainless steel receptacle, still conscious, he took a breath, hoping it was over but then, she smiled up at him. "Very nice, Mr. Anderson, that. More

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