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Trish gulped and wondered what Vince had in mind, but she was answered very quickly. “Now, Trish dear, I’m not feeling too well. The media’s been harsh, the XFL is a failure, and the WWF is declining in popularity. I want you to make me feel better, sweetheart,” Vince said. “Yes, of course, Mr. McMahon,” Trish replied. “How can I help?” “I’m glad you asked Trish. You can start by taking off that towel,” Vince said. Trish slowly reached around behind her, and unhooked it in the back. It dropped to the floor. Her breasts stood in attention, perfect size and form. Her pussy glittered from just getting out of the shower. This wasn’t so bad, there weren’t any people watching, and it wasn’t anything Vince hadn’t seen before. Vince smiled and turned around and went to the door. Trish just stood there as he opened the door. Waiting there were Pat Patterson and Gerald Brisco, McMahon’s old cronies. They would get him cups of coffee and do nominal tasks for him, and this was going to be one of their little gratuities. Now, Pat Patterson was gay, but even he could appreciate someone like Trish when he saw her.
“What are they doing here, Mr. McMahon?” Trish cried out. She just wanted it to be the two of them, if she was going to show him her most sacred assets. She had never posed nude for any pictorials, and didn’t like the feeling of being watched in such a way.