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. I hope you're not full though. I'm sure there's another snack or two coming tonight. They don't call them 'wet dreams' for nothing."She reached over to the end table and turned the light off, casting the room into sudden darkness. Pulling the covers over both of them, Jeanne adjusted her body into a comfortable position. "Enjoy my cock, slut. See you tomorrow."The room grew silent, save for the periodic sound of James' cum slick mouth slurping back and forth on Jeanne's titanic penis. Buried between her legs below the covers of the bed, it was already beginning to get hot and musky. It was going to be a long night.As the morning light slowly permeated the heavy drapes on the windows of the master bedroom, an utterly exhausted James continued to fellate the fat shemale cock that had taken up residence in his throat. Jeanne had nutted in his mouth three times as the night dragged on and she had muttered something about "lovely breasts" and "the perfect slave" in her sleep, but never. Lucky guy." Leo grinned slyly.I suddenly had an inkling of what attractive girls had to put up with: theconstant pretexts of conversation to get your attention, the not-so-subtlepropositions in every interaction.I rolled my eyes and turned away without saying anything, but could feelthe heat of his gaze on my perky, skirt-clad ass as I exited the building.I shivered from the intensity, but couldn't say for sure why* * * * *The streets were mostly empty, and I managed to hail a cab to the officewithout incident, the disinterested cabbie too focused on his radio talkshow to even glance at the vision of femininity in his back seat.When we arrived, I daintily swung my long, stockinged legs out the cabdoor, and Luke appeared out of nowhere dressed in his trademark gray suit,crisp white shirt, and no tie. Without a word, he gallantly extended hishand to help me up.I had never felt so humiliated before in my life, dressed like the officeslut in front of my boss of five years. But I.
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. With that said.....~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I finished loading the dishes into the dishwasher as my wife and son went out the front door. He had to go pick up some things at the store and my wife was on the way to a prayer meeting at church and then some worship practice followed by some benevolence committee….. Brad’s wife, Tamara had disappeared as soon as she put the last fork full of food in her mouth. She always did. It was the best way to keep the peace in the house between my wife and her. I did not hear her enter the room. She was standing there, hair pulled back, dressed in skin tight latex pants, black corset with red trim and her hair pulled back tight into a pony tail. She had painted her eyes darker, and lips redder. Her knee high boots had lots of buckles and had about 4 inch heels, allowing her to look me straight in the eye. “Come with me.” Was all she said? I put the last dish in the machine and obeyed. Down in the basement, across the hall from the rooms that made.

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