‘Have you got sore feet Janice?’ asked Andy. Janice looked down to Andy, ‘Oh yes, these new shoes are hurting my feet, sorry about that!’. ... Just then, someone walked in through the main doors. Andy couldn’t see them, but he could tell from the conversation it was a client coming in for an appointment. Andy, in a brazen move took this opportunity to start to massage Janice’s feet. He knew she would remain professional while talking to the client and ignore his advances. He caressed. But I was so bored to death by 2nd day evening. I had the flight back only the next day evening. There was a group who asked me out to join them roaming around the city. I let it go and returned. Back to my hotel suite, I just laid down on my bed. There’s deadly silence. I was lost in the silence. I wanted to scream. I didn’t have sex for the past month or so. My husband and I, both of us were busy. I couldn’t even masturbate for this time. My body was craving for something. My mind was craving. Soon enough, I was fucking myself with a rubber dick on all fours like a horny teenager. Oh, yes, Elijah, I whispered breathlessly, pounding myself with the dildo which forced pleasure through me, my thumb glided over my clit, pinching and pulling as I fucked myself silly. Fuck me, Elijah. I moaned loudly before biting my lip. I didnt want anyone hearing, but the thought of Elijah walking in and seeing me like his drove me a climax that went through the roof. I shuddered as I came, my fingers. It was all I could do to keep myself from going over the edge. Any minute now, and I would lose it. Frantically, I tried to slow myself down. Perversely, I started finger fucking myself even harder, faster, my body lifting as if by magic until only my head and shoulders and my feet remained in contact with the silky smooth sheets. “Anything, Miss Spencer?”Had I been more in control of my senses, the use of my actual name would have given me pause. As it was, I grasped on her question like a.