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I walk down the corridor to your office, mad as all Hell. You were supposed to email me an important file over half an hour ago—what could be keeping you?In the office you’re not known as Carol, the respected accountant, you’re not known as Mrs Brown, the office gossip. You’re known as the Fucking Ice Queen, the office prude, the uptight bitch. Always dressed appropriately in a business suit, even on the hottest days. No matter the circumstances you won’t take your jacket off. And most of the men in this building would love to see you out of that bulky jacket. Maybe show off those big tits of yours.Reaching your office door I reach to knock when I hear a strange ankara travesti sound. Gasping? And a wet sound I think I recognise, but it can’t be that.Opening the door just a creek I peek through, and I’m met with a sight that instantly gets my dick rock-hard.Miss Ice Queen, Miss prude, Miss wouldn’t-say-boo-to-a-goose, the prude who wouldn’t take off her jacket, I don’t see her. Instead, I see you.Your jacket is off, what’s more, your top is open and your bra has been pulled up, showing off your impressive tits. For years I’ve been wondering what your tits look like. And now I know, they look perfect. You’re playing with your puffy nipples, and travesti ankara although your desk obscures your other hand it’s obvious that it’s rubbing a very wet pussy. God, how much do I want to see how wet.Reaching down I reposition my hard dick, resisting the urge to take it out. If I’m caught jerking off here I’m done for.I open the door fully. You jump in surprise, desperately trying to cover yourself up, but it’s too late. I turn, lock the door and then I stride to your desk, you have a panicked look on your face, and I say nothing as I reach you, grabbing you by the wrist I pull you to your feet.”What on earth do you think you’re doing Mrs ankara travestiler Brown?” I growl pulling your computer monitor round with my other hand, so I can see what got you so hot and bothered. Looking at the screen I see a photo of a man (your husband I think) bending you over with a cane in his hand, beating your naked, red ass.”I’m so sorry Mr Jacobson…” I don’t let you finish I just pull you by the wrist and guide you round your desk. Your small green panties, round your ankles, almost trip you up. But you manage to step out of them entirely.”This is completely unacceptable Mrs Brown,” I say as I pull you round the desk to stand next to me. My hand goes to your back and I gently push you onto the desk, bending you over. “Looks like your husband beats you,” Slowly pulling up your skirt again I continue “but I think you’d like a beating from me even more. Am I right?” As I say as my finger runs up your cunt.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32