Today, in her new white silk blouse, over her tight black business skirt and standing in her high heels, with her dark hair flowing to her mid back, t... any man, she looked more than just good. Unfortunately, underneath the glamour, her head was in turmoil. It was almost the end of the month and the business quarter. She was still behind on her sales target and wasn’t sure if she was going to reach it. Across the country, several of her colleagues had lost their jobs recently and she didn’t want. Walter groaned, staring at her, his prick pulsing harder than ever. Margaret was proud of her 5'3" body. She was petite all over, except for her tits, which were extremely large and firm as they had been when she was in her teens. If it had not been for her position as a therapist and mother, the brunette would have spent much more time teasing men with her mouth-watering chest size. She enjoyed doing her errands in a tight t-shirt without a bra, letting men watch as her gigantic, sumptuous. I parked. We unbuckled our seat belts, and I moved our seats back fully. I leaned over, grabbed his cock through his pants. It was clear that the pump didn’t need any more priming. I unbuckled his belt, unhooked and unzipped his pants and pulled his underwear down with the ease and precision of a woman that has done it thousands of times before. He moaned and arched his back as my red-painted lips got closer to his hard cock. As presumed, it was no monster, but definitely of length and girth. It’s ancient Greek. That’s why I can’t read the words. ‘So you’re back with Jason?’ she asks. Her voice is high, unnaturally so. She too feigns nonchalance. She’s not as good at it as I am. ‘Since when?’ she asks. It’s not a question, it’s a demand. I don’t owe her anything. ‘Since you decided to try and force your agenda on me.’ It’s a lame answer. I’m beating her up for something beyond her control. I have to blame someone. ‘My agenda?’ She’s mad now. Good. Maybe she’ll leave. ‘If I recall.
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