If no sign came, she knew she was not beyond employing shameless flirting tactics to get his interest. Sometimes it came to that. He made her wait. He...was infinitely more patient than she, and he knew it. So did she. In those anxious moments before he took her into his arms – at long last – she was tortured. The demons inside her demanding attention, her sensibilities scarcely managing to keep them under control. It served his purposes well. By the time their lips met and her gratification. I would dress her in whatever she wanted to wear, usually a skimpy mini skirt and stockings or tights with a low cut top. Sometimes as I pulled her panties up her legs I would gaze at her cunt hungrily. I would look up at her, wordless asking for permission. If she had time and desire, she would let me eat her wet snatch to one more orgasm. When she was fed, bathed, dressed, and sexually satisfied I would quickly make a sandwich and eat it on the walk back to work. Sometimes my lunch break. More

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