At the far end of the room was my father’s oak desk, behind it was a giant glass wall that looked out over the grounds, gardeners were almost dancin... in the way they worked the flowers making it look like an art.I slunk into the chair behind the desk, Lucy walked behind me and massaged my shoulders. I ran my fingers over the desk and flicked on the small writing lamp. The desk was perfect not a scratch or mark on it. I slowly slid open the draw to my left it was neatly arranged with writing. I decided to continue to pretend to be asleep, but I reached down between my legs and began to wank, slowly so Sarah wouldn't notice.Her breathing became heavier, and she began to writhe under her own touch. She was trying not to gasp or moan but occasionally her voice would betray her. Eventually she had clearly decided that she could take no more, she got up, slowly, and pulled the curtains closed. She slipped on her bikini, and tiptoed out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. As. More

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