"Oh yes! Put your finger into my ass!"The tip of his finger entered me. It felt massive and my muscles tried to push it back out. The reality wasn't l...ving up to what I'd imagined just seconds before."Ow!" Sorry!" George moved it out and just held my asscheek in his palm. His fingers were still curled round and down between the cheeks and a fingertip was gently gently stroking against my hole again.And it started in me again. I wanted it. I wanted to feel penetrated. That tickle needed to be. ”“I put you in this situation baby girl, of course I’m going to fix it. Now let me go, I have calls to make.”“Yes Sir.” It starts right after lunch, the calls and texts, almost nonstop from John. Wanting to know what I’m wearing, how many friends am I meeting, why am I not answering him. I never answer but let it go to voice mail, and let Charles listen to every one. He is constantly on the phone with Sir after each one. He takes my phone from me so that he can forward the texts to Sir. I know. Unfortunately, we gasped. Out loud. And this time, they heard us.Instantly, pandemonium reigned. Our living room, calm and sedate only an moment earlier, was transformed into a three-ring circus in the blink of an eye. The boy, a bright shade of crimson, was grabbing at his pants, trying to stuff his wilting hard-on back in, running for the door at the same time, stumbling and tripping as he run, cursing. Heather, shrieking, was covering her face with her hands; then, still screaming. Then I phoned her office hoping that she could talk before her farewell lunch."Hi Paul, I thought you might call and I'm glad you did, now I can take a break." Busy huh?" Yeah, tired too; you beast!"I laughed, "I know that you're going home early to pack and I wondered, if I promise not to 'interfere' with you, could I help you pack?"Anita chuckled, "I would love that! And I wouldn't mind a little 'interference' either. Oh my, please don't say anymore or I won't be able to get through the day.