We walk out of the lunchroom… and run straight into Mr. Callahan. He's as immaculate as ever in a freshly-pressed pinstripe suit. His back-slicked h...ir is black, greying at the temples, and his sharp, grey eyes that never miss a thing are now twinkling with mirth. Did he overhear us talking? Fuck, that would be so awkward. I blush and try to hide my embarrassment with a quick, "Good afternoon, Mr. Callahan." He nods. "Miss Steel, Mrs. Monroe," he says before addressing me in a somewhat. Her finger slid deeper and deeper into her body, bit by bit her finger vanished into her own body, her back arched and she let out a long, hard groan. Her face tightened up in pure pleasure that almost doubled as a look of pain, until finally I watched as she engulfed her whole finger up to her knuckle, slowly she pulled her finger out recharging the sheen of her fluid—her nectar—and pushed the finger back in, her face relaxed and her breath quickened considerably. She moved her finger in and. More

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