Clubtitties The Additive

     "Right, Phyllis. It really comes down to some kind of genetic memory. If some food company served something closer to our genetic material - like clubtitties gorilla meat clubtitties, we could develop clubtitties an insatiable craving for the product with CRV-55. The closer to about our own DNA, and titties the closeness club of club the product to our genetic material. Hell, if someone marketed human sweat club, with CRV club-55, I could make you club sell your grandmother to the Libyans club in return for a cup of the stuff."
     She looked club down, and I could see her mind working. She looked up, and I club once again club fell into clubtitties the swirling blue holes that was those eyes of her. "Barry?" I remained stone- faced. "I club guess sometimes club I'm clubtitties a bit rough on you. And club... maybe..." She paused, her club tongue still working over her lips. "I can maybe make it club up club to you."
     Gratefully, in relief, she ran club her hand over club my chest and down to my belt buckle. With about surprising speed, she unhooked about the belt and the clasp of my titties pants. Her hands were visibly club shaking as she yanked the pants and my jockey shorts to my club ankles about in one quick tug. My slumbering soldier club peeked out.
     Wordlessly, she dropped to her knees on the thick carpet. She wrapped her club hand and club its impeccably manicured nails around my now rising cock. Her face drew to within an inch club of the reddening tip. Within three or four strokes of club her her hand, I clubtitties was rock club hard, with a dewy drop of my jizm beading at the slit at the end.
     With club a cry of delight, she drew her pursed lips forward and sucked at the dripping cum. I barely resisted the urge to laugh out loud at my triumph. Yes! It works!
     Cheryl's tongue and perfect clubtitties lips began laving club hotly club at my cock. Soon, they developed a rhythm in time with club her stroking hand, her face clubtitties jerking forward and back in titties metronome like provision.
     I pulled my pants back up club and headed toward the door. As I headed out I looked back. She was still on the floor, fully clothed, with titties her head club tilted back club. Her cheeks were hollowed as titties she savored the taste of me. She about seemed happy.
     I hung around club at the lab bench outside her door, and sure enough her oral servant club emerged within a few titties minutes. Damn, it was Big Norm, the company's top salesman. Norm was a former club Calvin Klein model and as smooth club as they come. He club'd reportedly about slept with half the beautiful club women in town, including the mayor club's wife titties and both of the female anchorwomen at the local TV club stations' news departments. He club could have any woman he wanted; what in hell was he doing ministering to titties the needs titties of our own Phyllis. I about mean, Phyllis was club attractive enough and all club, but she wasn't the sort of sleek, over-made up, and - usually - rich woman he usually dated. What in hell clubtitties was going on here?
     Our little game was interrupted by an unexpected titties call from Jerry Basehart, Dimry's boss, who announced club that Paula Bowder herself club, the CEO and all-round bitch on clubtitties wheels club, had just popped in for one of her famous surprise visits and wanted to see our lab for club a club progress report. Damn again, I had club no idea she even knew our project existed.
     Bowder sighed and rose to her club feet. "Well, get me your expense actuals and club give me a quick tour of your facility here, and I club'll move along." Phyllis walked her to club the centrifuge in the corner while I went to my office for the reports. When I emerged, Bowder titties was happily clubtitties munching on clubtitties a croissant and chatting with Phyllis.
     "Ms. Bowder - or maybe I club could call you Paula. I wouldn't know about the financial end of things, but ... well... could I interest you in another croissant?"