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I shivered and wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or desire.“Call me Bob.” Pete visibly relaxed, loosening his tie and eye-fucking me while Travis kept at my tits, his ministrations somewhere between pleasure and pain. He bit my nipples to keep them still while rubbing his semi-rigid tongue back and for the over the tips, squeezing tight around the base of my breasts. “How much pain does she like out of the box?” He asked Mr. Shaver, who’s answering laugh had a sharp edge of cruelty mixed with lust.“It doesn’t matter what she likes, Pete. Does it, Lilly?”“No Sir.”“And why is that?”“Because I’m a dirty whore, Mr. Shaver. And Dirty Whores don’t get a say.” I’d had to repeat that phrase and variations thereof fairly often in the last six weeks. Once he even made me hand write it twenty-five times while he fucked me slowly with the thick mahogany nameplate that’s probably still on his desk today. It took me three tries until the legibility met his requirements.The truth at that.
“That should keep the guys hot and horny during lunch!” he exclaimed
“More so if I don’t wear my bikini bottoms!” I teased “You have to give your audience what they want!”Hubby pulled me toward him, leaning in to give me a kiss. I turned my head, offering my cheek as I’d just finished my make up and I thought it would be a good tease.
We went out for lunch and it seemed that every guy was casting furtive glances my way at every given opportunity. This was exciting me and provoking me to be even more daring with my exhibitionism.
As good as my word, I wasn't wearing the bikini bottoms and my bald pussy was beginning to burn with desire. The table opposite ours was occupied by a couple in their early thirties. The guy was quite handsome and was sat facing me. He was casting the odd glance my way, trying very hard to be discrete, so I decided to tease him a little, thrusting my tits out and licking my glossed lips at every given opportunity. Hubby oblivious to my antics got up to use.
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