My clit is aching again. I’m used to being turned on but aching is different. Aching means I’m at my limits. The slightest touch of my cotton undies against my clit is enough to make me start soaking them again.
Fantasies play throughout the day as I watch him bounce from cube to cube.
We could do it in that room with the glass wall. The rest of the team can watch from the other side of the window as he destroys my pussy on the conference table. No no no that’s way too out there. We’d never get away with that.
His office is the obvious choice. Our monthly one-on-ones is an opportunity with a door that locks and a chance to be a little more obvious with our flirting.