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Was it getting warm in here? She adjusted her blazer and continued to write. It was definitely getting warmer. She felt flushed. She undid the buttons, revealing her white blouse covering modest breasts, and a firm, flat stomach. A few stray hairs were sticking to her forehead. It wasn't warm anymore, it was hot. She was nearly panting. She looked over her shoulder, and he was still there, but he didn't look warm, he did have a knowing look in his eyes though. What was happening to her? She felt a tightness in her chest. It was getting hard to breathe. Suddenly she didn't feel comfortable in her clothes. Her skirt was too tight, and her bra felt like it was digging in to her. Her bra WAS digging in to her. Somehow her breasts had started to grow, and the fabric was straining to contain them. She took off the blazer and hung it on the back of the chair. She could feel her heartbeat through out her body, a pounding in every vein. Her breasts continued to swell, and she rushed to the. With a steady pressure, he inched his spear deeper into the recesses of my unexplored hole. Watching my face in the mirror, it was a mask of mixed emotions. I wasn't gay, was I? I'd never enjoyed pain, at least not the receiving end of it. Yet the lust in my eyes was evident. As much as my ass was on fire, I didn't want him to stop. I wanted every last inch of his powerful rod buried in my butt. I wanted to feel his balls slapping against mine as he bottomed out. I didn't just want his cock in my ass, I wanted him to fuck me; fuck me like an a****l. "Yea," I grunted. "Take that ass. Ohhhh, damn. Pound that hole. Fuck me hard and fuck me deep." Shit, dude, you were easier to flip than a quarter," he teased as he continued to pound my hole with reckless abandon. I was trapped hard against the marble counter top as he plowed me, unable to struggle free even had I wanted too. My rock hard cock whacked against the cabinet with every deep stroke, and leaked a continual stream as he.
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