“Mr. Santangelo, thank you for this meeting. I'm Cricket Vaughn.” "Mrs Vaughn..." "Call me Cricket... I haven't been Mrs Vaughn ever, really. Cr...cket is fine." Stephano fidgeted in the big leather seat. "I can't call you Cricket.," he murmered. "I fuckin' hate crickets. When I was in the army I did boot-camp in Parris Island. Those bastard crickets kept me awake for seven fuckin' weeks straight... 'Chirp, chirp...' Bastards... You got a real name?" "You serious?" "Yeah... I'm always. She said I don't kbow about this. I said baby you are beautuful. She said look at me I look like a poster girl. My nipples and pussy lips are on dispkay for every one to see. She was right so I had to do some fast talking. You look hot...lets get on the road its getting late. With my hand on the small of her back I guided her out the front door. I ran ahead to open her door on the truck and as I watched her walk up to it she looked like a wet dream. She you'll have to help me in these pants. More

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