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He had enjoyed listening to her screaming all day, it was a shame the Commander's stopped abusing her for the night to go out drinking. Morgan turned from the bedroom door to AJ, opening her bathrobe up. AJ felt her heart skip at the sight of her voluptuous body. Wearing a lace red bra and thong paired with silky black thigh high stockings, she looked like she was about to star in one of AJ's most intimate fantasies. The one playing out right now. Reaching into her deep bra cup, Morgan pulled out a cell phone, turning it on. Still smiling, she looked through it, searching for a phone number she had called before. "I left this here last time they had me locked in this shithole," she said, slipping the fluffy white robe completely off her body. AJ stared at her, not really hearing anything she was saying. She watched drops of water fall from her long curls down onto her damp light brown skin. Her big breasts were barely covered by the red lace cups of her bra. The small thong she wore rode high up on her hips, biting into her soft skin as it tightly hugged her curves. Morgan dialed a number and put the phone to her ear, listening for a response. Her brow furrowed in confusion when no one answered. She dialed a different number and homemade waited for an automated message. 'This is an automated recording designated for: Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo Niner-Zero-Tree. Repeat, that was Dove 9-0-3. Follow this Protocol until further notice: J-7. Repeat: Follow Protocol J-7. This is an automated recording des...' Morgan pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, hanging up the phone. Protocol J-7 meant Patty was in the Bhabhi field for whatever reason and wasn't available. The protocol dictated she call Patty's superior for directives. Morgan already knew what her orders were, if she couldn't talk directly with Patty then there was no reason to bother Marshall Agners. Morgan sighed, moving toward a bookshelf to stash the cellphone again. AJ watched her go across the room, her full ass bouncing with every step she took. AJ wanted to touch her so badly, she's been thinking about what they did last night and wanted to do more. Feeling brazen; AJ moved toward her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Before she could make contact, the sound of rowdy laughter boomed throughout the apartment, stopping her. It was the Commanders, obviously wasted and enjoying themselves as they laughed and sang their way inside. "Shit," Morgan whispered, turning from the large bookshelf. AJ put her hand down, turning to desi face the door along with her. "Kitty! Where are you?" yelled CGB, staggering into the apartment with Murph on his shoulder. Morgan rolled her eyes hearing the nickname, knowing they must be obliterated indian with how obnoxious they sounded. "Stay here," Morgan whispered to AJ. Tip-toeing out of the bedroom, she heard raucous laughter coming from the kitchen. Walking through the arcway of the common area, she found herself right in front of all three Commanders in just her skimpy lingerie. "Oh Kitty, look at my Kitty," india CGB slurred, moving towards her. Morgan laughed at the sight of him, he was visibly hammered. He coated his fingers with her juices. “Honey, you need to just go upstairs, okay. As they waited for the lift she pulled a indian smartphone from her india pocket, pursing her lips as she opened an app and scrolled through it. The thin dimpled crease of a scar across her lips accented every expression with a mirror image. “Wow that must have been something. Wanna sneak up for a few hits?” Wight into my cervix and homemade all the way home.. My own hand took itself to the lips below my mound, my fingers snatching desi at my button, I felt her hand over mine and she pressed it down, rubbing my own over my sex. Synthia then stuck her tongue out to occasionally lick at the Bhabhi head of his cock when he brought it close enough. For cookies. I stared at Vern.