“Sounds sticky… but it fits what I plan on doing to you,” he says with a mysterious wink. My heart jumps with nervous excitement at that and I r...ise an eyebrow at him. “Oh?” “Spoilers,” he says winking again before opening my door. *Later that night: I wake up laying on my back, I find this slightly odd to begin with as I am usually a side sleeper. I feel groggy and lethargic as I slowly come to; normal for a deep sleeper like myself. Slowly, I pry my eyes open but see nothing. Confused, I. Whenthey addressed me as "Mr. Johnson" there was almost a sneer in theirvoices now. And I had to admit to myself there were certain aspects ofthe office routine, duties that were uncomfortable and even impracticalin a dress or skirt. Somewhere along the line I made up my mind torevise the office policy next week.... But not before I made these ladiessquirm a bit!Meanwhile however, the disappointment in my subordinates had turned to asullen resentment. I had put off face-to-face meetings with. She asked if we needed another drink soon, she told him about the specials again, and she dropped a napkin onto the floor so that she could squat down for it. As she squatted down she opened her knees up wide for us. I glanced over to see her pink panties pressed tightly into her pussy lips. I was sure that my husband had just as good a view, since his cock had hardened even more in my mouth. I felt her hand make its way to my pussy, cupping it, and then she inserted a finger. As I sucked my. . and down below. There, deep inside, I throbbed. Icould feel the thrump of every heartbeat, the warm, wet yearning waxingwith each beat. On my skin, every breeze, every shift of hair, everytickle was electric. Stumbling against a table, I gasped for air."It's the PT-141!" some distant part of my mind screamed. "It's notreal!"I didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but thethrobbing, the yearning, the toe-curling electric zaps running--"Miss?" demanded a voice, apparently.