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To say I was horny would be akin to saying the sun is hot or the ocean is deep. Recent events had launched my libido on a crash course towards full-blown nymphomania. Although I got royally pounded, hard, fast, and deep, I woke up three times in the night with my fingers dancing over clit and turned those fingers into a violent mosh pit of orgasmic masturbation. In the morning, I woke up horny and forced my poor boyfriend to fuck me, bent over the arm of the couch, before I let him leave. It took a large plug up my ass, a huge dildo in my dripping cunt, and another toy on my clit before I was even sated enough to even think about going into work.Not caring that it was one of the coldest days of the winter, I dressed provocatively, wearing only a flowing, boho-style, gypsy dress, thin enough to drape seductively over my figure rather than to hide it. Warm, fur-lined boots were my only other bits of attire. Not bothering to overly style my hair, I went for big and bold, all çankaya escort puffed out, wind-tossed, looking more like a fiery lion’s mane than my preferred, slightly curled look.I even let some of my facial freckles show through, opting for stark, slutty makeup with enough eyeliner to headline a punk concert and enough red lipstick to cause a shortage. My doppelganger in the mirror looked like a trashy slut. It was perfect.Work went slowly, crawling along at an agonizing pace. Most of my morning was spent up in my office, fingering myself. A huge Sharpie stuffed in my pussy while I rubbed the cold, hard steel of my stapler against my clit helped for a moment. The corner of my desk alleviated my burning need for a short while longer.The new sales representative of our office supply company gave me a call to introduce himself and to chat about my needs. If he only knew. He had a confident, smooth, deep voice that keçiören escort dripped with honey. My honey was dripping; I peppered the conversation with double-entendres and innuendo, fingering myself to orgasm while he talked. I wonder if he figured out that I was fucking myself to his voice.Lunchtime finally came, after I did at least a half-dozen times, and I told my staff that I was going to take an extended lunch to take care of something “very urgent.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Despite the wintry chill, I didn’t bother with my coat. Strutting the two blocks to a little wine bar, never busy this time of day, I hoped that he’d be there.Mike is his name and he sometimes works the day shift. I’ve seen him there several times. He’s young, handsome, muscular, and safe. He’s also seen my dripping pussy on more than one occasion. I had something different in mind. I intended to give him more than an innocent etimesgut escort flash, much more.Strangers eyed up my too-small, bouncing breasts, my nipples sticking out proudly in front of me. I felt eyes burning into my ass as I strutted, thinking that I heard the screeching of tires locking up as my wiggle endangered traffic. I greedily accepted their leers and stares but I needed more.He was there. It was also his lucky day.“Miss Krystal, it may take me some time to serve you. As you can see, we’re extremely busy, today.”“Hiya Mike, how’s your sexy self?”I was the only patron in the place. I had to suppress a smile when his eyes locked on my hard nipples.“Are you looking at my tits?” My accusatory tone had the perfect guilt-inducing timbre.His face reddened, his eyes cast themselves downwards in shame. They sprung back up when I turned the latch to lock the entrance door and turned the sign around to read “CLOSED.”“I’m sorry,” he began, ”wait, what are you doing? I’ll get in trouble.”“Oh, you’re in trouble, all right,” I smiled as my hands reached up to cup my bosoms. “I’m hungry, but not for food or wine.”Like a cat ready to pounce, I sashayed towards him, opening the front of my dress to reveal my nudity. The dress floated down to the glossy wooden floor as he looked at me, too stunned for words.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32