Instead of watching TV, there was a laptop sitting on the bed next to him. His thighs were slightly spread, and he had a thumb hooked in the waistband...of his boxers. The thin fabric did little to disguise the outline of his bulge.Once again I imagined following the trail of hair from his navel downward… I was distracted from this train of thought by his text:“maybe you should let someone look at it”It took me a moment to realize he was still talking about my phone.I smiled, his words giving me. I sat behind my desk and she took a seat in the chair in front of me and crossed her long legs that were cladded with nylon stockings. I stumbled the first couple of words out of my mouth because I was still taken by surprise by Jennifer’s good looks. She had a very business like outfit on with the suit jacket and the skirt that came down to about six inches above her knee.I went on to ask Jennifer the same list of questions as I periodically checked her body out. She kept swinging her foot. The back of the netbillowed, the whistle blew. The noise of the crowd was deafening. Jenniferand Rowan at last forgot their woes, as they jumped up and down in delight. But then a hush fell. Miranda was down and had stayed down. One of the defenderswho had tackled her had failed to stop, or had tripped, or slid, or something.Nobody was quite sure. But there had been a collision. Miranda was motionlessin the mud. The match was halted. The referee went over to her, followed bythe games mistress,. She felt it really was hers to use, to control. Something came over her and the phallus began to grow.She could feel it growing in spurts. Each one made her tighten her muscles. Soon the thing was hard and pulsing. It was hard not to touch it now. She watched it in the mirror as she wrapped her hand around the shaft. Again she tightened up. The sensations filled her up. She stroked it. It felt like she was pumping a dildo inside he pussy. It made her want more.Her mind thought about the trashy.