She kept herself to herself and said very little. Making a conversation with her was hard, but I tried. I thought I was getting somewhere too. It was ...bout five o’clock one Friday and Suzie, my boss, asked if I would stay back a while. She needed to have a chat to me. I started to become a little anxious as to what that would be. As five thirty approached I became a little more concerned. I knew Suzie was in her office and Amy was there also. I heard a little shouting, not much just the odd few. Privately, I thought the designers of this camisole had someone larger than Donna's thin Japanese stature in mind, as one strap and then the other slipped from her shoulders, which she would self-consciously pull back into place.But as the wine kicked in she eventually ignored a sagging strap. As Donna reached down to toss a new log on the fire, a chocolate brown areola peaked out at me from beneath her flimsy camisole, and as she leaned over to refill my glass with wine I could look all the. Further down, her large (42G) breasts were flushed and slick with sweat, her nipples pointy and sore. They were littered with red marks where Dario had clearly pinched or roughly manhandled her. The same marks were on her arse and ample thighs. Her fanny was engorged, with the lips of her labia red and distended. A slick layer of sweat and juice covered everything, including her neat, dark-red bushr, which was now a sordid mess. She looked at him, but her eyes were sad and glazed over.“You. “I want your head between my thighs” Babs whispered, and Gary duly obliged, he knelt on the floor and drew her to his mouth, putting her legs over his shoulders. He thrust his tongue into her cunt through her wet panties. He tugged with his teeth at the satin and lace and probed with his skilled tongue, while Babs writhed on the work-top in ecstasy. She rode his face until she reached climax, gripping her thighs around his head while grabbing his hair and pushing his face further into her.