But she was. I smiled and led the way. I opened the sliding glass door and she went through. My eyes caught a glimpse of those luscious legs and that ...erfect ass. It was cold outside and I’d needed that relief. The thick wool blend of my costume was killing me. She stopped about five paces out and propped a hand on her hip, repeating her ‘what the fuck’ look. I laughed in spite of myself and prayed she wouldn’t recognize it. I had a distinct voice, or, at least I liked to think I did. There was. I rub him and squeeze him, I feel him grow a little. 'Please don't touch me' 'please don't touch me' The elevator opens and we step out, my hand still connected to his crotch, rubbing, feeling him get hard. I turn in the direction of my car and we walk. He isn't speaking now. His mind must be racing.My mind is telling me to do naughty things, My body is responding to my mind.My mouth is the only thing with any reason. 'Please don't touch me, I'm married'We reach my car and I point to it. I. More

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