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He was nodding, rapidly, and started saying “a’ight..a’ight.. I gots you. A’ight!” then he asked. “Right now?” and he simply nodded. “A’ight. I be there.” And then he did an astounding thing to me. He pulled out, and started to put his love-juice coated stick in his shorts.“What the fuck?” I exclaimed, my lust turned into a furious frustration. What did a pretty, sexy, provocatively dressed, willing white woman have to do to get laid in a bar filled with black guys???“Sorry, bitch…” he spoke in a very matter of fact tone. “I got’s ta run. Fuck ya’ later, slut!” and like that he was on the move, his feet moving him rapidly away. I had to give him one thing, his name was sure accurate. He moved like a rabbit on the run.I fell back on the table, my head turned to watch him leave, my knees still high and wide, legs bent to my chest. With my skirt up on my stomach, I was completely exposed to the alleyway, and in plain sight of anyone on the main street who would happen. She could feel Dylan's cock stiffening underneath her, he could feel some dampness seeping through the cotton panties. ----- The door to the 4 th floor was unlocked. The guard was not surprised. The Austen crowd were terrible for leaving the place unlocked. As he scanned the open plan office for signs of life he muttered under his breath and fetched out the master key. ----- Heather put two fingers inside Dylan's mouth. He sucked on them as she drew them out. Popping a button on her blouse open she took the glistening fingers and slipped them inside her bra. She pinched first one, and then the other nipple. Both acutely sensitive to the touch and standing proud. She pressed her body to his, and kissed him. She had wanted this for so long. Wanted him. “I want you to fuck me.” “What?” “I said, I want you to fuck me.” Heather's hand slid across the desk, scattering papers and stationery on to the floor. She rose to her feet, turned around, placed her hands on the desk and leant over..
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