"I knew you were smart... and look at it this way. When I'm living like a king under the Cl- Ah, Mr. Trump, you'll probably get some fringe benefits for being my personal whore..." The man takes his sweet time sauntering over to stand behind the runner, but he's still carrying his pistol in-hand when he puts his weight down on her shoulders to pin her in place. After all, he wouldn't want her getting any ideas. "And to think, I was just going to shoot you before you started throwing yourself at me so desperately. Did you know what I was planning?"<br/><br/>The man's tone is strangely civil, almost as if he were discussing the weather with his "guest." But there's nothing civil about the way he begins to rub the thick head of his cock against the runner's spread nether-lips, or of the way his breath seems to hitch at the sight of her clit-chain dangling beneath her.<br/><br/>"Or are you a little ladder-climber yourself, hoping you could move up in the world by sucking the right cock?"<br/><br/>At least this time, there's just the one person... but not even the ork in the alleyway could compete with the sheer, unbridled savagery of the Colonel's first thrust. She'd thought that the ork had gone hard... but the Colonel's hips slam into Rishi's so hard that the desk actually scoots back half an inch, and her hips make an audible<em>WHAM</em>against the desk's metal edge. It's nearly enough to make her see stars... and to show just how eager the man is to claim his new "possession."