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I had asked how Natasha and Katya would come with me. It had only been the day before that I had gotten instructions to 'return home'.I received several responses, all seemed to come down to the following, 'Details, mere details, don't sweat it!'A big black Gulfstream IV stood on a side runway. As we all boarded, a large package was handed to me. The 'inspector' was already on board, he smiled at us, a rare sight in Moscow from an official, greeting me, Natasha, and Katya by name and motioned for us to relax and have a seat.Several more people boarded now. They were all couples or families, then at the last minute 3 more single men boarded. One came to where we were seated and sat down."When we get airborne, open the package, read everything, then hand the video player and papers back to me. Everything is going to change when we land in D.C., Stat. As soon as we land, 'shit' will happen. Don't worry though, everything will be fine, when I tell you, drop to the ground, act like you are. Never.With urgency now, she met my mouth with a kiss that so devastated my senses, it took a full moment to realize I now found myself with my back against the shaggy carpet, and then her naked body enwrapping mine.Her hands explored me fervently, with her mouth following dutifully, until they came to a part of my body that had been silently screaming in want for what felt like as long as I could remember. First were her nails, a gentle trace of my lips’ peak, and finally the tips of her fingers sinking into my folds, revealing the moisture that had been created within them.I wrapped my hands around her neck, telling her that I needed more, much more. In response, her fingers pinpointed my clit with assured, circular movements. I let out several moans in which her name was camouflaged. Normally resting so easily and unexceptionally on my lips, it now seemed to acquire a totally different hue. Now it sounded passionate, more delicate.As much as I was enjoying those caresses, how the.
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“Come in,” his voice called from the other side. I turned the knob and swung the door open. The office, which I had never seen before, was walled with dark cherry wood. The walls had a few religious pictures on them, along with a crucifix. There was a bookshelf filled with spiritual volumes, a desk and two side chairs. And that was all. Very simple. “Hello Pastor Greg,” I said brightly after I entered the room. I pulled the nearest chair slightly further from the desk, draping the raincoat over the back of the other. I sat on the front edge of the chair and reclined a little, allowing my bare thighs to extend out, though keeping my knees together. The young preacher looked up from his papers and blinked. “Well, Gina. It’s nice to see you made it,” he said after a moment of silence. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” “Well, here I am,” I said. And then there was a period of silence, and awkwardness for the lack of words as the silence stretched. He wasn’t saying anything, but his eyes were.

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