Chapter Eight
Peejay glanced at his watch. Angela was waiting for him downstairs.
He looked beyond the resume he was holding at the applicant, running through her list of qualifications mentally. Heather Marshall, age nineteen, 5’ 2”, 105 lbs, perky and freckled, hair sensibly styled for the all-important interview, fidgeted shyly in her chair. Her parents were in jail on drug charges. She had been in a bit of trouble herself.
“I’m so grateful for this opportunity,” she said brightly. “Not many people would give a girl with my past a chance like this!” She toyed nervously with the gold chain around her neck, until she became conscious of the action and folded her hands modestly in her lap.
He wondered how those big blue eyes would look pleading for air as she swallowed his c**k. “Not a
