One hand pinching, squeezing, pulling. The other moistened circled, teased, rubbed. Not to be outdone, the noise started to evolve. The thumping now i...cluded squelching, sighing, gasping. Words followed. "Right there. Yes. Harder. Oh, fuck me." The voice was familiar, but his mind wouldn't place it. "Give it to me. Oh, come on. Yes. Right there. So good." It was some close to him, but my god just look at Gilda. She's perfect. "Oh, Patrick." Erica?!Jerking his head to the right, there she was. I scanned up and down her body, slowly. Diana always appreciated that, because it wasn’t a leering look, but a show of appreciation. She was still dressed in what some may call business attire. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that barely touched her knees.She had a white button down blouse with thin, vertical blue stripes on it. Whatever shoes she had been wearing that day were long gone. But, knowing Diana, they were probably heels of some sort. To look at Diana, you wouldn’t know that. She’d realise what a vulnerable position she was in now, stretched over the desk, her smart office skirt riding up over her the back of her legs. ‘Now then girl, tell us the truth before things get a lot worse for you,’ he’d say threateningly. ‘Okay, it’s true,’ she’d whimper. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll get my things and leave, okay?’ ‘You’re a journalist aren’t you? From the worst kind of gutter press. Looking to dig up some dirt about the school?’ ‘Fine, you got me. You win. Listen, I’ll just collect. Dave had stilled, wide eyed, as if he was terrified as to how she was going to react. Kayla slowly ran her hand down her body until she met his. She placed her hand over his and lifted her knees, placing her feet flat on the mattress. She locked eyes with him as she slowly opened her legs and led his hand down over her mound.Dave felt the heat radiating off of her, a slight dampness on her panties. She had a look in her eyes that was almost pleading. "Babe, are you sure?"Kayla's response was to.