.. you are?" she stuttered."Yes," he said, and a second finger joined the first. "But I don't love her. It is you I love. I love you, Olga. Tell me yo... believe that I love only you ... please!"He rubbed his slicked fingers over her clit. She jumped in her chair, tears filling her eyes. "I," she tried. The probing fingers sent hot snakes of electricity up her belly.She could not think. She could not talk. An overwhelming sadness fought with the debilitating arousal she had felt ever since she. The sexual tension between us was very strong, and the flirting heavy, each time she came in. I loved her visits.A taxi pulled up shortly after five. I had her keys and invoice ready for her - her husband had called and paid over the phone earlier in the day - as I assumed she would be a hurry to get home. She stepped out the taxi and came inside.She is about five foot four, has long dark hair, and is very shapely. Even with the extra twenty pounds, she has great curves, shapely hips, and a. More

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