”“I’m not a courier. You can call your daughter yourself,” she snapped in her native Bulgarian.It was close enough to the Macedonian language ...hat Karel Gergev understood clearly. But anyone listening could have interpreted the intent of the Consul-General’s clipped, rebuke by tone of voice alone.“Yes, dear! Bye bye,” the billionaire ended the satellite call.Karel, a large blocky fellow with a bald head & thick mustache, headed towards the deck. He poured a snifter of whisky for himself and a. A finger lightly caressed her panties, tracing the damp shape of her cleft through the snowy satin. The finger pressed deeper, becoming a long, slow rub against her excited clit through the pliant fabric. The finger worm its way under the satin, seeking out her softness until he touched wet sensitive flesh. She jumped.Continuing his explorations, his fingers slid further under the white satin, parting her soft curls. He gently stroked the tender outer lips, then dipped into the mouth of her. More

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