I wondered how well she could dance. The incongruity of this usually prim and proper woman dancing in my club struck me, and I had to stifle a chuckle..."Last night I went to see Harold," she started. "I realized that if I truly cared for him, I had to confess what we had done." She paused to hiccup a couple times before continuing. "He then informed me that he already knew. He said he didn't care about me or who I screwed, and only used me for a fuck toy." Betty broke out in tears again, and I. I started to unbutton her blouse from the bottom up, letting it slide off of her heaving tits. Her breasts were bigger than my real ones, the DD-cups were a subject of much office pride. She had a black and purple lacy bra on underneath, the kind you only wear when you intend to get fucked. Thinking sexual thoughts about a woman was hard for me at first, but I was a good actress: I knew the things she liked, I knew the things I liked, and I put them together as best as I could. So I didn't. More

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