Brandon
It was more than just hard to get Jenna to eat anything. She’d somehow managed to skip breakfast by sucking my coc.k until I exploded down her throat. She then turned that into a two-hour se.x marathon. Not that I would ever complain about that.
It took two hours of sleep, then a one-hour run, a shower, and a change of clothes before I managed to get Jenna to eat lunch. Martin had arrived by this point, and Jenna was obviously beyond nervous.
Regardless, she ate the chicken salad, Laura, my parents cook, prepared for us. My father had sent Dean, his butler, to let us know he and Martin were waiting for us.
It’s taken me ten minutes to calm Jenna down; she seems to be on the verge of a panic attack. I hold her close to me, soothing her, letting her know there is nothing to fear
