Her breathing was becoming more rapid, and she was growing flush. It was like…like her body was preparing for sex. She was aware of the pressure of...her nipples on the fabric of her sport bra. Her labia were tingling, and she was getting wet. It was absurd, but she felt a strong desire to climb up onto the desk and rub her aching pussy all over the computer screen. To hell with the gym, she wanted to work-out right here, fucking and fucking… It was the ball. The red ball. She wasn’t just. “I’ve never heard better,” said the man, who from his inability to focus directly at her eyes was probably evidence that he wasn’t overly self-confident and almost certainly not gay. In this company of unprepossessing women, Susan stood out as a beauty guaranteed to generate a spark in the eyes of all but eunuchs and the most steadfast homosexuals. Susan now had to move for the kill. Someone else might net Mr Cosgrove or he might decide to quiz the cellist yet further. She slightly furrowed. More

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