Friday 9 October 2009

Ajar

“Come in,” she calls within seconds of his knock.

He pushes open the door and freezes, stunned; she’s waiting just inside, naked but for black panties and an angel’s face.

“Like?” she asks coquettishly.

“Utterly.”

She leads him to the couch, binds his wrists with his tie and then straddles his lap. She rips open his shirt, her keen teeth making his nipples rise, making his flesh sting. She presses herself against his hardness.

“We shouldn’t,” he gasps. “I’m your boss.”

She unzips him fluently, grasps his cock wantonly. “That’s why you’re here, Sir. That’s why I’m so fucking wet.”

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