” came the bark from around the corner to the kitchenette in which, stood atop the requisite stiletto balancing act that was demanded as part of her...‘business casual,’ Gretchen was doing her damndest to follow orders.“Oh, I’m cumming alright, bitch,” sneered Gretchen as she shoved the round-bottom glass coffee pot onto the crusted old brown burner that had seen its fair share of coffee stains, but certainly not the brand of ‘espresso shot’ that the devious administrative assistant was eager to. As both our spit stained fuckpoles bounced in the air, S sat back on her haunches, panting, ready for anything. “Turn around,” I said, stroking my stiff dick. “So you can look at your husband waiting for you while men whose names you don’t know fuck the shit out of you.” “Yes, Master,” she mewled. We both had insisted that she keep her dress-for-success tailored suit on. Leroy pushed her skirt up on her fleshy ass and bulled his fuckpole into her gooey pussy. “EEEEuuuhh! C-cummminggg!” S’s. More

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