‘Say my name,’ Jon demanded, possessive. ‘Say it like you mean it.’ Ida groaned when his fingers kept going. ‘Jon, I want you Jon. I mean it... I want you.’ Jon smiled. Ida claimed his lips. He removed his fingers—Ida groaned, ‘No, please don’t go.’—and pulled at her spandex shorts, determined to show her how much he loved her. Her small hand stopped him. ‘Say it.’ Ida demanded playfully into his collar bone. ‘Say this means something.’ That is wasn’t some childhood fantasy or bet that would. She was a petite woman, narrow-waist with a tight, firm ass wrapped up in a tight, gray, knee-length business skirt. As she lowered her arms and turned back to her desk, the fabric of her white shirt moved across her chest, allowing me to see the outline of her firm breasts. My eyes lingered there for a little while, before moving up her neck to her face, and I jumped a little when our eyes met and I realized that she had been watching me watch her. She narrowed her eyes a little, and tightened. More

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