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It was just seemingly doomed. We were both losing the Rat Race! Late one night she gently laid a hand on my chest. “You still love me?” she asked softly as if sobbing. “Yes baby, I still do,” I answered without hesitating. I was not sure how she felt any more and her very humble question made me realise. We have not lost everything yet. We talked for a while and after exchanging a lot of thoughts and emotions agreed to have a date night to which nothing will deter us. * I breathe deeply and slip my hand from the valley of her waist and over her belly. The tip of my finger toys briefly with her belly ring before moving slowly over her soft skin, tracing the ridge of her ribcage. Moving in a half circle backward my fingertips feel their way along the other side, navigating the ridge just below her right breast. Her breathing matches the movement, becoming deeper and a soft sigh escapes her throat. Slipping my hand back my fingers slip under her ribcage and with slight pressure on my. Suddenly, she arched her back, let our a low scream and let forth a jet stream of juice from her pussy!! I had never seen a woman squirt before, and this was magnificent. Above, in the office tower, some of he men were high-fiving each other, trading dollar bills, obviously having bet on how long it would be before she climaxed. On the floor above, I could see that someone was banging their secretary, or perhaps receptionist on their desk. Above that, a man stood with his pants around his ankles, a spent look on his face and a large stain of his own jizz on the window in front of him.By this time, the mystery woman had come out of her post-orgasmic stupor, and was beginning to collect her things, re-dress herself, and ready to get back to work. She towelled herself off completely, spritzed some body spray on herself, then pulled her stockings up and connected them to her garter belt. Surprisingly, she put her skirt on without panties. Perhaps she needed to let things cool off.
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Her hands played with the fabric of her skirt as she looked out the window. She was dressed exactly as her Master had instructed. His choices had been rather limited, as Elle had been a good girl in her past life. But he picked a tight black crop top, a black ruffled mini skirt, and her tallest 4 inch black heels. Underneath she wore a lacy black bra and a tight black thong. She could already feel herself getting wet in anticipation.***The driver dropped her off outside a small house in the suburbs. As he drove off, Elle immediately became self-conscious. She was standing out here, alone, looking like a whore. Which, it turns out, she was. Elle took a deep breath, then walked up the driveway to the front door. Again, she stood there for a while before getting the courage to knock on the front door. After a minute it opened. Inside was a tall man, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. He had brown eyes and straight brown hair. “You’re Elle?” he asked, looking her up and down in the dim.

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