“Well, girls! No more fucking sitting around enjoying yourself,” barked Ralph. “It’s back to the fucking shop floor with you two. And no fucki...g shirking off either, you bitches! Don’t think that a bit of fun upstairs brings you whores any fucking special privileges.” Buttercup and Tracey were then led back to the shop floor, semen still over their faces and dripping down their thighs, through a cordon of male office-workers who leered and grinned lasciviously at them as they passed by. One. " I suppose your wife is at the Glenmore thinking you've gone shopping or something." I told you I'm divorced." All married men say they're divorced." But I am divorced. Really." I suppose anything is possible. So you're a fiction writer, huh?" Two novels and a short story collection published in the past five years." Hmm. That's very impressive." Not as much as you might think. My last book didn't sell worth a damn." What have you been doing in Belgium?"I grinned at her. "Did you actually read. However, the girls took every opportunity to pleasure each other, kissing and sucking nipples, fingering each other's cunts to bring themselves to climax.As well as the pleasure of the organism, the excitement of almost being found out intensified the pleasure. Doing it when nobody else was in the house was one thing doing when either the husband or brother was in the house was 1000 times higher. Cooking dinner, for example, became a shared pleasure; neither boys’ knew that the hands used to. I walked down the stairs and as I pushed open the ladies room door, I felt a warm breath on the back of my neck; it gave me a lovely sexual chill. I felt lips kiss my neck and then the person said, "This is going to be fun." I recognized the voice from the table; it was the man that wanted to clean me. I turned right there in the doorway, wrapped my arms around his neck, and I kissed him my hot "come fuck me" kiss.We broke our kiss and I said, "I really have to pee, wait right here." I patted.