Again. "OH!" in a near scream.By this point, I could no longer control myself. I frantically yankedon the leotard, digging the Lycra into my slit, and...letting it slipback, as fast as I could and the fabric would allow. Relentlessly.Screaming with each intensely pleasurable pass of the oh so soft andslick material across my clit.With a final aggressive yank I came."AAAAHHHHH!" my scream rang out, reverberating in the room.My eyes rolled into the back of my head and my back arched off of. All over the mirror. I let it fall……..no use now, I couldn’t see anything through it, anyway.Two hands now. I thought of him watching. The thrill of what I was doing. I’d masturbated a thousand times before but never like this. Then I forgot all about him. This was for me. More juice. Then more, much more. I used one hand to smear my tits. I remember manoeuvring my body, my head over the edge of the lounger, my head almost on the floor. I love the way the blood rushes to my head……..best orgasms. The sounds coming out of my mouth? I had heard those sounds many, many times. The sounds my women would make. When I was destroying their pussies, and their asses. Women in pain, sounds. Women in pleasure, sounds. Now, my sounds. Holy gay embarrassment. So damn loud, too. A big show I was putting on for the hallway cruisers. Bragging to them all, I was being fucked by the leather pants boy. I could barely see my cock. Pointing directly at me. Heavy and full. Slick and shiny, the knob was. They knew him as the “Boss.” The CEO of a major corporation. Smart, decisive, and yet funny, kind and generous to a fault. His employees respected and liked him. His friends loved him. Great company but not a party hound. A homebody of sorts. He was a divorcee. His first wife was a cute little green-eyed natural blond with a figure-skater’s figure. She worshipped the ground he walked on. And he adored her as well, except… except…Well, she was a young 22 when they got married. He was an old 36..
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”Rhonda smiled.“Where is Vickie?” she asked.“Vickie is at work,” I replied.“ . . .and why aren’t you?” Rhonda asked.“I needed a brea
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