I leapt to my feet when a woman in her late thirties or early forties came in a few minutes later. Her hair was short and jet-black, her skin pale, an... her features sharp. She placed a thick folder on the table and shook my hand with a firm grip. 'Hello, Desmond. I'm Giselle Martineau. Sit.' Her dark navy blazer and skirt was loose enough to mask her figure, but she seemed to be quite slim.She pushed the folder across the table. 'The first item, Desmond,' she said, 'is our formal offer.''I've. ''No. Well. You’re not a woman.’ She pauses. ‘To be honest, I don’t mind. I’m down here with a guy, someone I like, and we decide to get it on? Well then. The reason I'm here, it’s no longer about just enjoying my man. It’s also about enjoying being watched. Watched while I’m being fucked.’He's jolted more aggressively than the rock against his ass ever managed.'But all those peepers,' she's saying, 'what they actually want, they want you to watch them. Because in their mirror, they see their. More

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