.mai use nazar bhar dekh hi rahi thi ki wah mere paas aaya aur meri namgi kamar me haath daal mujhe kheechata hua bistar par le gaya. Khatiya par mai ...ahi leti balki usi ne mujhe dhakka de kar patak diya aur khud meri bagal me ho kar mujhe baahom me bhar liya. Namge hariya se namgi ho kar lipatane me jo aanand mila raha tha use mai shabdom me bayaan nahi kar sakati. Yah kahana galat na hoga ki ham dono hi ek dusare se gumth gaye. Wah mujh me aur mai usame ghuse ja rahe the. Usake namge jisam se. Ive no idea how many, I think more than ten. I felt wonderful. I felt dirty. I certainly felt full of mens sperm. I loved the snatches of dirty talk that my brain managed to process. I loved the way I was referred to as the dirty slut. Under normal circumstances Id have been horrified to be called such names, but under these circumstances I revelled in it. One can after all, be called a slut as an insult or as a compliment. The events of that experience, afterwards seemed confused in my memory.. I was handed a pair of lacey knickers and told to put them on - as I pulled them up I could feel my cock getting harder as they both watched me, the back of the underwear was not a thong but not a brief either - as I pulled them up they pulled into my arse crack teasing my anus - making my cock hard.They were both watching me and making fun of my hard penis in those knickers. The first mistress (the one I had arranged to see) pulled the panties higher so they really pulled up between my bum. I smiled when he said "You're a very sexy girl, aren't you?" and gave only the briefest of nods.When he said "Please join me in my office" I felt that she was compelled to do it . . . even though the back of my mind provided me the information that it was quitting time.When the boss said "Good girls enjoy pleasing men, don't they?" My brain actually formed the word "No!" but before the word made it, I heard my own voice saying "Yes, of course."When he said "I would be pleased if you'd show me.