Gay The Gay Additive

     "Sorry, Mr. Dimry, I just don't see any way around gay the DNA limits. We can create additives that asian will cause people to develop a craving for certain, but not vegetables and absolutely not any artificially created substances gay."
     "There goes the Tang account," I cracked gay. I shied gay from gay Dimry's scowl. He never cared for my sense of humor.
     We morosely finished gayasian our gay beers and headed out gayasian into the night. We realized that if our exalted employer, TEI, didn't think that we could develop gayasian a substance that could induce a craving for the taste of a commercially available product, the Project Crave team would gayasian be let go. As far as gay we knew, human sweat was not yet on the gayasian market.
     On the way back to her place, she seemed oddly quiet gay. Looking gay over at her, I could see her run her tongue inside her cheek, as though search for a piece gay of stray food caught in her teeth. When we got to her condo, I gay reached across her and unlatched the door, pushing it open. "Well, Cheryl, I guess you should get in gay, with that hectic day you've got coming up."
     She reluctantly drew her mouth away and looked up at me gay. Breathlessly she panted gay, "What should gay I do gay, Barry? What will make you cum?" Her stroking continued, and gayasian now her left hand rose gay to lightly knead my hanging balls.
     Unquestioningly, Cheryl replied, "Sure honey, but you gay gotta tell gay me when you're about to shoot."
     She resumed her sucking, taking gay me gayasian fully gayasian into her mouth and into the entrance of her throat, moaning lustfully gay all the while. Four, five more strokes and I cried, "Yes, Cheryl, you've got me there!"
     I pulled my pants back up and headed toward the door. As I headed out I looked gay back . She was still on the floor, fully clothed, with gay her head tilted back gay. Her cheeks were hollowed as she savored the taste of me. She gay seemed happy.
     "Yes, honey, right there. Yes, now lick gay my clit now too... Come on, not just inside. Please gay... lick my little button... Oh shit."
     I hung around at the gayasian lab bench outside her door gayasian, and sure enough her oral servant emerged within a gayasian few minutes. Damn, it was Big Norm, the company gayasian's top salesman. Norm asian was a former Calvin gay Klein model welcome and gay as smooth as they come. He'd reportedly asian slept with half the beautiful women in town gay, including the mayor's wife and both of the female anchorwomen at the gay local TV stations' news gay departments. He could have gayasian any woman he wanted; what in gay hell was he doing ministering to the needs of our own Phyllis. I mean, Phyllis was attractive enough and all, but she gay wasn't the gayasian sort of sleek, over-made up gay, and - usually - rich woman gay he usually dated. What in hell was going gay on here?
     Double damn gayasian. I realized what she'd done gayasian, and she immediately sensed gay my knowledge. You don't slave over a lab bench with gay someone for eighteen months without acquiring a sixth sense about their scientific discoveries. With a flip of her head and a conspiratorial - but gay still superior - wink, she turned and went back into her office.
     By midmorning the next day, Phyllis had a short, red haired woman reporter and her bearded photographer from a major science journal down on their knees in front of her couch, both fighting for gay the honor of drinking from the vessel gay of my colleague's asian cunt welcome. Phyllis of course had also left her door cracked open and was particularly vocal about enjoyment, knowing that gay I asian'd be drawn to peek from her doorway.
     Precisely at 11:00 a.m., the woman herself showed up. Although only of average heighth gay, Paula Bowder had a magnetism about her that is impossible to describe. Her gay honey blonde hair was pulled tightly back, and her piercing blue eyes took gayasian in all that she gay scanned, even - I'm sure gay - the jelly stain welcome that I hadn't been gay able to get out of my tie.
     "Ms. Bowder - or maybe I could call you Paula. I wouldn't know gay about gay the financial end of things, but ... well... could I interest you in another croissant?"