”“Has he noticed that you’re more than the office furniture, yet?” I asked. That was quite a question coming from me. I normally avoid persona... questions like the plague.“No, because I’m not.”“And what’s that mean?”“It means that I’m ... I’m just a piece of office furniture, is what it means.”“Tell me a little about yourself,” I pursued. “To me, you’re a very lovely voice on the telephone, but that’s all.”“I’m five feet eight, brown hair, brown eyes ... And I weigh about 155 and wear. The thrill of another man holding my wifes ankle suddenly sent a shiver and pump down my rectum. I put my hand around her wrist. The game was beginning. She in turn help me with her other arm and hand. Tell me what hes doing to you, my love. I whispered in her ear. Hes not doing anything, yet. Hes just holding my legs and rubbing the sides of my ankles. I feel him putting his fingers all around them. He has a strong grip, John. But hes gentle. Hes teasing me by twirling his hand on the skin of. ” Katie gulped a little.“The photographs have to be very intimate of course,” he told her, “do you think you’d like to do that?”“Yes, I think.” Katie decided boldly.“Well, good girl! You won’t regret it you know, the Calcium Club treats its portfolio girls well. Step through here and we’ll take your pregnant pictures now. Not too much time to waste by the look of it!” he joked.They stepped through to a well equipped photographic studio where the club manager, whose name was Dan, posed her. "Oh christ.." I blurted as he wrapped my little hand around it. "Kneel down and suck it" he ordered "NO!" I said "I don't do that, and if I did I wouldn't do it with YOU" "Fucking silly tart" he said. Charming. He quickly whipped his leather jacket off, and his obligator ripped T shirt.Talking of ripped, his body was gym hard, the perfect triangle torso, tiny waistand skinny legs. I've often wondered how rock stars get to look like that - it must be a mixture of weight training and.