He wore a red suit trimmed in white. He wore a black belt and boots. Boots with a little unmelted snow on them.“What the fuck's going on here?”“...ush, tush,” the man chided. “Watch your language. Don't you know who I am?”“You look like fucking Santa Claus.”“Exactemente, mon jeune fils! Except, between you and I, I prefer Kris Kringle. You may call me Kris.”“I don't fucking believe this.”“Again the potty mouth. Oh, but you will believe. What time is it?”Andrew looked over at the entertainment. ‘Honesty is not always the best policy.’ I smiled at her humor. ‘They will find the error eventually,’ I countered. If anything, they would feel obliged to remove my penalty for my honesty. ‘Mrs. Henderson?’ This time it was a male voice. ‘Yes.’ I turned away from Betty. ‘I’m Rick Carlson in the title department. I understand you believe we have made an error.’ ‘Yes,’ I chuckled, ‘it seems you think I paid off my mortgage. As lovely as that sounds, I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of. Tell Micheal I'll be home early tonight. I've kinda been neglecting her lately. So, I figure we can spend tonight together, go out to eat or something." He leaves the kitchen and Vincent waits until he's sure he's gone before starting his interrogation. "Alright, now someone's going to tell me what she doesn't want Jarod to know." he announces, making Margaret and Emily look at each other. "Well, she just said we couldn't tell Jarod. She didn't say anything about anyone else." Emily comments. “Ffffuckkk me nnrrghhh…” he groaned. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do as he leaned back. Rubbing his temples he had to make a decision. His cock was already beginning to harden again in its protective home, his libido seemingly inexhaustible. The jutting nub of his sheath, as large as one of his massive fists, throbbed with an unrelenting need. Taylor ground his teeth as he did his best to ignore it. It didn’t help that his heavy sensitive balls barely fit between his legs. It was a.
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