’ We were working for a company called ‘Sexcorts’ – and when I had asked him straight out if we were not simply to be high class whores, he sm...led and said, ‘What, my dear, makes a woman a whore? Marrying for money, as, undoubtedly, did my lady wife, may be construed as prostitution, no? At least we don’t try to pass you off as ‘escorts’ – pretending that you are simply virtuous young girls, there to look pretty. No, you will go with very well-heeled, sometimes famous clients, to high-class. Is that going to be a problem?”“No. You were not fucking Helen and your fiancé was not fucking Stan. The policy is not in effect and so you are good, unless you start fucking subordinates and lording your supervisory position over them, then you will be gone before the cum dries on your lips.”“Look everybody, I am going to be in the office next week. I may be there earlier, but don’t count on it. I have it on good authority that each of you are good, honest, loyal, and hard working. I like. I managed to keep working until early afternoon, but having stopped to make a cup of tea, I sat down in the lounge for a few minutes to read the paper, and fell asleep, where Julia found me two hours later when she came home.“Hey! What are you up to, babe, didn’t you get enough sleep last night!?”“I certainly didn’t, you should have been there!”“I was,” she replied with a cheeky grin, “and I still managed a full day’s work. Am I going to have to find myself a lover who can manage to give me a. Her fingers now reached inside my thigh. "Yeah," I agreed, setting my own coffee down. "Probably the most fun I've ever had in my life." She was leaning into me now, and her fingers brushed against my balls. "Me too," I agreed in a bare whisper. Her face was just inches from my mine. Her green eyes stared questioningly into mine. To answer, I leaned forward and kissed her. I buried my hand in her luscious black hair, pulling her head towards me. After a minute, she straddled over me,.