That was what he was. The man standing in her kitchen was an escaped convict. She could hardly believe it. This was something that happened to other p...ople. And the way he looked at her was tile most frightening thing of all. He seemed totally unafraid of her, as if he could do anything he wanted and get away with it.He saw the recognition in her eyes. "I guess they had it on television."She nodded. "Yes." What did they say?"She told him she didn't remember much. Something about escaped. The Saturday night before we left for Vegas we went to a party at Jennifer's new manager's house. At the party I met Robert Stanwick and his wife Megan. Robert was Jennifer's new manager and the host of the party. He was six feet tall and very athletic looking. He must have been about thirty-five years old and had dark brown hair. His wife Barbara was tall, maybe five feet eleven inches, with long dark brown hair, much like Jennifer's, and a great shape. Robert seemed like a nice guy. After. .. ?" I exclaimed with the saddest show of neglect I could muster."I'm sorry, did I forget something?" was all she answered. I looked down at my dick, which was standing straight out. She looked at me amusingly and spread huge globs of shower gel onto her palms and reached down towards my dick. "Is this what you're whining about?"With that said, she wrapped both hands around my shaft and started pumping me, like she was trying to pull the cum out by shear force alone. Then she knelt back down. She was the only one not sweating. Tamara began rubbing my back and Christina joined her. I didn't want to get out of bed.Timing, here is where the phone was supposed to ring to interrupt our love fest. And it did. I rolled over and grabbed the phone."This better be good," I said."This is your mother."Oh shit, I hate it when she says that."Hi, Mom, where are you?" I'm in London. What's the news with Mike? I read your e-mail." I wanted him to tell you but since you called. He's in Hollywood.
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