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Her focus was not just on my face, but seemed to roam. “Before I sign, there is one thing that I need you to do for me.” “Name it,” she said moving her hand to her skirt again.

She spent more than a few meetings with me making sure the hem of her skirt or dress covered the top of her hose.Her long legs, God her legs, satin smooth in her ever present stockings, begged me to admire them.Her trim hips swayed gracefully and demanded as much attention.Not huge as some would have loved for them to be, but just enough to tickle my fancy.However tempted I was to eye her from nylon covered toe to well-coiffed hair, my eyes begrudgingly stayed above her neck. Bring your computer,” she demanded in a whisper as she passed. So many that I seldom get to do any of the programming that I love, but spend most of my time designing computer landscapes.

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