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Chapter Text

"'HeyheyheyHEY!", FBI Director Matthew Weitz yells, bouncing his closed fist (just to get her attention, mind)
you) off the top of his auburn-haired ex-wife's head. "TEETH, you idiot!"

She mumbles something, which is iinaudible due to the big male member occupying he oral cavity. Adonia gets her revenge a
DIFFERENT WAY-she rakes the hard, red tines of her finger nails down his thigh, smirking around his rigid cock when he yelps in pain.

"What the FUCK??!"

The Greek Goddess ceases her voracious sucking long enough to shout back, "I have TOLD YOU MANY TIMES; WELL OVER ONE

...Now I can continue, or not, as you wish."

"Ahhhhh...continue!" (OF COURSE!)

Checking his wristwatch, Weitz decides that if he's going to make it back to his office in time for his conference call, he'll need to end this really
excellent blowjob NOW if he's going to be able to work-in an ass-fuck before he has to leave.


P: Tasha, if he's stopping by your house, following you home from've gotta put a stop to it.

J: She's right, did READE react? You DID tell him, right?

Z: He didn't seem upset; we did it before going to sleep. He seems okay....WHY? have you noticed something?

P: Not to ME. Jane?

J: I'm gonna be straight with you, because I respect...he seems a From what I see...but YOU know him better than I.

Z: What should I do? He's the fucking DIRECTOR.

P: You need something 'on' him-LEVERAGE.

Z: (voice lowered) I have some leverage.

J: Shit! Spill, Bitch!

Z: :LATER...when we're less public. We have to get back, anyway.

Matthew Weitz, his bloated male member buried DEEP in his ex's entrails, wonders to himself how in the Wide World of Sports he
allowed this BEAUTIFUL, ULTRA-SENSUAL, VOLUPTUOUS, EXOTIC Greek beauty to divorce him...Ohhh, RIGHT...his incessant

Concentrating on the task at hand, he uses her big hips as levers, controlling the pace, thrusting deep and hard; Apolonia is well accustomed
to rough sex...her breathing becomes heavier as her excitement increases; she refuses, though, to make any other sound-from past experience,
the tinest grunt or groan will inspire him to REALLY DIG IN to her shop-worn butthole.

The ache in his balls is more pronounced by the minute, and he increases the pace and depth of his fucking...the heat of her interior ass, and her tightly
clasping rectal muscles, are an unbeatable combination, and combine to send him into orbit...After a shower, he kisses her goodbye and jogs down
to waiting phalanx of black SUVs waiting at the curb.

Chapter Text

"This LSAT issue is, how should I phrase it: getting stickier. You'll really need to pull
out all the stops...I'm saying PASS this time."

Rachel digests these statements carefully. "That's the only option? Pass-or leave the firm?"

Litt back-pedals slightly-just slightly. "Your Paralegal work here has been by all accounts, first-
rate. If I speak to the Partners, I can reasonably guarantee that, at the least, you'd remain in that
capacity-at a LEAD POSITION, perhaps?"

"To what do I owe this largess, Mr. Litt?"

"It's LOUIS...and the largess you have BRAINS, BEAUTY, and a KILLER BODY to
thank for that...why the "face"?! Those were compliments, for Christ's sake."

"I dated a Urologist, previously...he always said that 'tighty whties' is why Men have crotch rashes, low
sperm count, and other urological you find that the be true...LOU?"


"I asked..."


"But you asked me..."

"That's ENOUGH, Ms Zane...everyone says Be NICE, Louis...why can't you be NICER?? "; Litt's
tone is mocking, and condescending. "THIS is try to help someone, and they try to turn it around
on you. Go ahead, get out. Close the door."

Rachel stands and starts toward the door, then turns and favors Litt with a brilliant smile. "By the way...adjusting your
trousers, while in private conference-CLOSED DOOR, NO LESS-with a female subordinate...if that female subordinate
were to experience any adverse work-related changes to her employment, she might decide to take the recording that may
have resulted from a 'pocket dial' on her cell phone to the PARTNERSHIP COMMITTEE. That would probably not be good
for that NAMED PARTNER/trouser adjuster...would do YOU think?"

Incensed, Litt thrusts an extended index finger at the door. "OUT-and it's LOUIS."

"As you say, Sir."