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My pussy started creaming itself, my thick juices trickling out. It was time to speed the Martins up with an old realtors standby. “I'm so sorry to make you hurry, but I have another client I have to get to soon.” “Oh, sorry,” young Mrs. Martin said. “But, we'll take the house.” And then she led out a girlish shout. “Oh, how wonderful,” I said and to my surprise Mrs. Martin gave me a brief hug. I had the paperwork with me and had the Martins fill it out before they changed their minds. I may have been excited to get laid, but I needed the commission. Mary would understand. Plus, she was unemployed and on summer break from school. Once that was all finished, I hopped in my cute, cream colored Jetta and sped down to the Blue Spruce Motel. I sent Mary a text, letting her know I was coming. “Room 15,” was her reply. I knocked hard on room 15's door. Mary opened it. She was even more stunning in her red outfit in person. She was smiling seductively, thrusting her chest out, her nipples. Somehow she has to make Laura understand, convince her to leave so that she and Gavin can continue their discussion in private.Sliding off of Gavin's lap, she settles on to the bed beside him. "Fighting isn't going to..." Oh yeah," Gavin sneers, ignoring her, "I forgot you're the neighborhood nanny." He leans forward. "Since you know so much, maybe you can answer a question for me?"Laura glares back at him. "What's your question?" How long did it take you to decide that I was the cause of all Elena's problems?" What? I never said you were..."Gavin laughs, but there's no humor in it. "No, it's okay, just give us a rough estimate. Five minutes? One?"Stop this!"Look, both of you," Elena tries, but this time it's Laura who interrupts her."I don't even know what you're talking about." She walks to Elena's desk chair, spins it around so it's facing the bed, and sits. "That's okay though, you probably don't either."Gavin smiles, but it's somehow one of the most unfriendly expressions.
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He had not grown up with very much financial security. Ditching his job as a CPA to pursue a dream? Still, he had made a commitment to his friends. If the majority wanted to go for it—assuming the opportunity even arose—he wouldn’t hold them back. They played their second regular weekend gig the following night. Kate had attended, arriving early enough to get another front row seat. She was mesmerized by the band but it was Morrison, the lead guitarist who excited her the most—excited her as a woman. She had tried to talk to him during a break but he had been mobbed by regular fans and she didn’t want to come off as a groupie. That Sunday, Kate had pulled her Fender out of the closet for the first time since coming to the city. She was a bit rusty at first but soon got in a groove. Kate read music but could also play by ear. She ran through several of the songs she had heard Boys’ Nation play. As the heat inside her quickly rose, she planted the butt of the guitar between her legs.

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