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" Shawna didn’t know how to respond, really. She had accepted the invitation to dinner because she didn’t want to dis’ her customer and also because, at the time, she was highly aroused. She was still very curious about what might transpire tonight, but not without trepidation. She re-focused on Stephanie saying, "I’d like to get to know you, too, Stephie. I’m just really unsure about your situation and how I might fit into it. I don’t think I could be like you in that respect. You know? I’m not afraid to tell you this is all kinda weird in a kinky kind of way. I’m not sure what D has in mind tonight." "Daddy, I mean, D, won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. At least, I don’t think he will. He treats vanilla folks with respect, just like anybody he would meet on the street. It’s just kind of different how we met and all, that’s the only difference." "But he was so forward today with me. You know, asking if I was wet, smelling my fingers. That was definitely not what I’d. As she came floating down from her orgiastic high, Edy reached down with one hand to cover her crotch, separating Jorge’s more than enthusiastic tongue from her very now tender clit, feeling herself up and all the wetness that flowed from within her and hoped he wasn’t too grossed out by her wetness. She quickly reversed her position, twisting around to face Jorge, astride his hips, sitting above his long and extended cock, holding him like a sword she was about to descend upon but first playing his wide thick hood through her cum-drenched jungle. With his hands on her hips, Edy slowly lowered her pussy down, Jorge’s cock waiting impatiently as she carefully enveloped his hood, then the next couple of inches, both releasing moans of appreciation at their merging. Edy pulled herself up, leaving only Jorge’s mushroom like head embedded within her, then lowered her lascivious cunt down just a little lower, playing with the feel of him inside her, taking in just a little more, then up a.
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There was the mixed air of copier toner, wet ink and reams of fresh paper but it was all underscored to the powerfully foreign scent. Kate took off her pumps and walked barefoot through the workspaces. As she went, she switched on desk lamps and looked at the papers the secretaries had left out. ‘There’s coffee still in the mugs,’ Chip whispered. ‘So?’ ‘So?’ he put his finger to one of the mugs (which was inscribed in gay red writing the phrase, ‘World’s Best Mom’) and found it was still warm, ‘The mug is hot.’ ‘Hot coffee at a secretaries desk,’ Kate cocked a brow, ‘There’s a shocker.’ ‘With the office closed? Who’s in here drinking it?’ Chips looked around at the other desks in the dim light. He hurried to each desk, touching five mugs in all, ‘There’s half-full mugs on every desk. All of them warm or hot.’ ‘Your point?’ she flipped through a file folder. ‘Why did they leave in a hurry?’ ‘Maybe there was an evacuation?’ Kate suggested sarcastically, ‘Maybe the mayor ordered.

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