Feeling frustrated. Helpless. Furious.I had to stay in the conference room. I was the one person Wexler might be willing to die for. If he shot me, he...��d have fulfilled his contract with Greta Gunther. He’d die with his honor, his manhood, intact. Or maybe I wasn’t worth it. But I wasn’t about to find out. Not that day, not that way.The responsibility needle had swung back to Sandra Fleming. Now that Constance Grayson was free, the entire Wexler mess had shifted from a strategic problem to a. I started slowly by rubbing and pinching my nipples. I slowly worked my left hand down to rub and squeeze my balls. I was touching every part of my body except for my cock because I knew I wouldn't last long when I finally did. I was afraid to even touch the plug in my ass for fear of an early orgasm.I was pretending to close my eyes, hoping to see Erik at his window. I watched for about ten minutes and never did see him. I finally couldn't take it any longer and started to attend to my own. More

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