I could not move. Ever since McAllister had gathered up his belongings, packed his suitcases, and walked out of our bedroom; I had remained curled up on my side with my back to the door. Neither of us had said good-bye to the other.I should never have told him the truth about myself. I should never have told him that I was Cicero's genetically modified clone.Six hours ago, I had lain in this same place, facing McAllister. "I have something very important to tell you," I had said.He raised a pale blonde brow and looked me straight in the eyes, his way of telling me I had his attention. I placed a hand against his cheek, and he turned his face so that he could kiss my palm. His lips seared my flesh. I pushed him back when he leaned in to kiss me on the lips."I don't know how to tell you this," I said. "Where do I begin?"No! Don't speak!" I placed a finger against his lips to silence him. "If you say one word I'll lose the courage to tell you what I must."For a long while, we gazed into. To complicate everything, cuntjuice leaked into her black-and-gold bikini panties, which were clinging to her damp fuckhole. She summoned her willpower and tried not to squirm. “It's over there,” the bartender said, boring holes into her flesh with his eyes. Grace almost came as she realized that this man was going to dick the shit out of her before she got out of this place. He knew it, she knew it, and they were talking about everything else. “T-thank you,” she stuttered. Fuck! She knew every man in the room had his eyes on her fat asscheeks as she tried to walk calmly to the telephone. She knew that her “catch” black-and-gold dress was clinging to every contour of her asscheeks, causing every piece of dickmeat in the room to be rock-hard. Ooooooo, fuck, this was so nasty and no one had even mentioned sex. She dropped coins in the phone, asked to reverse the charges, and tried to ignore the pussyjuice making a tiny puddle on the band of her panties, thoroughly wetting the black.
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