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Instead, she sat back, spread her legs wide and rubbed herself, while her free hand reached for the pot cigarette and, after she had placed it carefully between her lips, for the lighter. She sucked the smoke into her lungs and held it there for a few seconds, before blowing it towards the ceiling. After every puff, she took a big sip of beer. She could have done with an extra hand, juggling the cigarette and the can, thus leaving few possibilities to touch herself. On multiple occasions, I thought I'd go in there and provide that third hand for her - but this entire thing was too perfect to ruin. When she had finished the cigarette and emptied two more cans, Riley stood up. She didn't seem to stand too steady on her feet (who could blame her?), but she managed to stay upright. For a moment, it looked like she was dancing, but in fact, she had taken hold of the bottle of wine and used her free hand to rub herself. She walked around the apartment, from her living room to her bedroom. .. oh never ... not this ... we mustn't ... ohhhhh..."But even as she stammered out all this awkward denial, she couldn't keep her lust-glazed eyes off his still expanding and lengthening cock. "Ooooooooh," she squealed, hopelessly thrilled and in the grip of a passion so obscene it was unnamable. "Yes, I love you ... you know I do ... but how can we, ... how can we ... oh Damn!, we have to! I have to! I can't stand it -- I've got to cum!"And with this, all last remnants of puritan morality and restraint fled, and Georgia uttered a sharp, piteous cry of anguished desire. If only he had made her climax with his tongue, perhaps she wouldn't be so vulnerable. But it was too late now to ponder the imponderable; she was hooked. A mere slave of the flesh to his ardent whims, as she scrambled for the pillows, stacking them high under her buttocks and hips so that soon her open pelvis was raised high into the air as if on a dais for a temple Goddess, and she rested back on her shoulders with.
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It was just a small thing I did for a quick stimulation. My clit was aching with pleasure, like it had it's own hear beat, and my legs began to tremble. The machine was done. I began to work up what spit I could, not swallowing any of it, until I was done. With little time, I began to furiously rub my clit, as I leaned over the coffee filled mug. With a long strand of my white saliva dripping into the coffee, I began to get closer and closer to cumming, but I had to stop. Getting a hold of myself, I lowered my skirt back down, and took the coffee to Mr. Chamber's office. “Here you go sir.” He quickly thanked me before gluing his eyes back to the computer screen. Returning to my desk, I could see him in his office, typing away. Under the table, I was already moving my panties aside, for a few gentle rubs. Then it happened all so fast, as it sometimes does. He very quickly takes a sip of the coffee. I could practically feel my spit dripping into him. I covered my mouth and looked down.

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