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I returned to New York with my eyes on an assignment perhaps not as big as the space program, but certainly of world-wide importance.

I didn't even wait to check into the Uptown Inn; I called Jim Hillsdale from the airport. "Jim, about my next assignment . . ." "We can discuss it tomorrow in the office."

"Jim, how about we discuss it at the Uptown? Give me a few hours to take a bath. I feel shitty after the flight."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"Jim, it's been a while." I lied. He didn't have to know about General Porter and the very talented Admiral Scrivner. "I'm in dire need."

"I'll call Mrs. Hillsdale. There's a huge story about to break," he laughed.

When he arrived at my room, there was no pretense; I answered the door naked. It wasn't too long before I was on the bed on my back, and "Holly, I'd almost forgotten how delicious your pussy is. Let my tongue please you all night."

"You mean please my delicious pussy?" I was learning.

...

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