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I thank them both and head up to my office to do a couple of hours of work since tomorrow will be an event. In my office, I turn on my laptop and see that the number of emails hasn’t gone too far out of whack. It’s sitting at a mere 650. Of course, the first thing I do is eliminate repeated emails of the same topic, that takes out about 175 bringing me down to 475. I scan through them and don’t really see anything that requires an immediate response, just lots of ‘read-only’ emails. So I begin the arduous task of working my way through them and then deleting them. When I finally get less than 75 emails left, I rub my eyes and shut the computer off. I notice that my back is a bit sore, but I don’t know if its from all the play or if it’s from the crappy chair. I look online and find a couple of wonderful looking chairs at an office supply store. I order them, couple one for me and one for Jill. I realize that I don’t have my wallet and must put the whole thing on hold until I get my credit card. I get up and head back to the bedroom to retrieve my card. When I return to the computer, it tells me that I’ve ‘timed out’, which annoys me. So, I begin again. I go to the website, load it up, select anal the two chairs that I want and pay for the chairs and their stupid delivery fee and set up the delivery for early next week. The delivery fee makes me think about the hotel group. Charging for small things, such as extra personal items, more towels, valet service and the such makes me think about how we might be just annoying our customers over things that really don’t bring the company any money. I send Jill an email asking her to investigate how much the add-on items bring in moneywise in the Pinetree chain. In my head, I was betting that it was a relatively small amount. I shut off the computer, picked up my credit card, turned off the light and locked the door so no one has access to Jill and my computer while we are busy with the party. This makes me think that I should check the doors that no one needs to be in tomorrow. I head back to the bedroom, put my credit card back into my wallet, which I plan on having all the lady’s purses and all of Jill’s and my valuables in the safe in the closet. Don’t want someone pilfering. In my head, I chuckle that I wouldn’t expect anyone from the FBI to pilfer, but you never know with the kids. I grabbed my master key and the red door key and started upstairs. I left the video game room open, for obvious reasons. I made sure that the red door room was locked, which it was. I left the black door room open, since some may want to play some billiards. I locked down every other room upstairs. Coming downstairs, I again left the video game room open. I thought about all the bedrooms and decided that in the morning, I would lock down teen anyone’s room, such as Kim and Kay’s room that won’t be at the party. I didn’t want anyone snooping around in their room with them not here. Once I had gotten to the level of locked doors that I felt comfortable with, I blonde saw that Bobby and Sammy had finished and they had headed off to bed. John was sitting alone in the kitchen having a glass of something, which I assumed was probably pineapple juice. I decided to sit down with him and chat before heading to bed for the night. “Hey John, do you think we are ready for tomorrow?” I ask. “Yep. I think this will be a delightful afternoon. I know that it will be all creampie the FBI agents and their families, but I think that your home will be a hit and the party will be talked about for quite a while,” John says to me. “Well, I hope it is a success,” “Hey boss, may I ask you something?” They both assumed a side on position facing each other. She had not understood how much she hurt Ronja until she teen saw the pictures. Playtime’s over, honey. He commented on her two friends, “Too bad Patty and Gwen aren’t here, we could all get stoned.” It beat so fast as my hands slid down her back to cup her rump through her purple pants. Her nipples dark and hard, almost seeming to point at creampie me. It's such a bland phrase and far to pedantic a way of expressing the power a blonde man like me is willing to wield. And then I felt sharp steel against my neck, “Open that pretty little mouth of yours, Missy, anal and if you hurt one of my boys, I’m gonna slice your throat from hither to yarn.” So when Melissa came back in, I asked her about it." “How long am I going to have to wait before I get to see all of that bikini?” 0403 couple - Johnathon