We chatted as we drank, his spreadsheets forgotten as his eyes drank in my semi-nakedness while I stood there brazenly, drinking my coffee accepting h...s obvious ogling. I could see he was fascinated by the marks on me, particularly the bruised bite marks on my tits, though as a gentleman he never mentioned them, I was almost imperceptibly grinding my puss on the corner of his desk, leaving a tiny wet spot as I finished my coffee, did a twirl, put my cup in the sink, grabbed my towel and headed. That's all. It doesn't mean I want him to do this to me. He's just... He's just very good at what he does. When he held me, even if it was only as a friend, he knew all the right spots. He knew how good it felt to have his hands around my waist, my tummy. He knew how good it felt when he traced my mouth with his finger. He's good, I'll give him that. But just as a friend. He is still at it, fingering my pussy now and he has leaned forward and is kissing my tits. Both of them. Taking my nipples. More

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