The lace of her conservative black dress swept toward Marcella menacingly. It saddled her neck with a folded white collar and pinned auburn buttons do...n the sable column guarding her body. Given a headdress, one might have mistaken her for a nun.“It’s late Marcy” She said. The stack of letters in her hands was tied with a pale blue ribbon. The postman’s signature seal. “There’s nothing from your parents yet, and these letters will be here in the morning”The excitement drained from Marcella’s. In fact, the greatest stress of the conference so far might have been the foot massage Stark had given Lana the previous evening, after several hours working out the final touches on Stark's presentation. His hands were large and confident, and the way he'd touched her feet and ankles had put Lana in a zone of relaxation that was completely unprofessional. By the time he'd finished, she realized her pussy was wet and aching, and she'd nearly staggered back to her room.Now Lana's spine stiffened. More

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