Sitting in traffic I let my mind wonder, and already feel my crotch dampening. By lunchtime I can think of nothing else and the warm burning sensation...of a building orgasm is too much to contain. As I slip two fingers into my wet pussy in the dingy office toilets I think of his hands grabbing at my tits, pulling at my nipples and whispering in my ear that I am dirty whore... The rest of the week goes by and I can hardly contain myself thinking about seeing him at the weekend. Saturday morning. He pulled his faded blue t-shirt off over his head dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. Next, still without speaking, he opened his trousers, pulled out his cock, and started stroking it until it grew hard and rigid. He kept stroking until it began to throb then he stopped. He got on his knees in front of me, put his hands on my ankles and slowly ran them up the insides of my legs, simultaneously pushing up my nightgown and separating my legs.When my nightgown was up around my waste he. More

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