Befriending The Banker free porn video

The clicking steps of Laura Turner’s 4” scarlet Louboutin heels on the polished marble floor accompanied the swish of the mahogany door, with gleaming brass handles, closing to elegantly.

The dark wood-lined walls echoed and amplified the metronomic clopping of her graceful gait. Even the chandelier twinkling above her seemed to give a tinkle as she passed, gently swaying in her wake.

Laura placed her matching scarlet clutch-bag on the attendant’s podium; wrapping the golden chain around her wrist and clicking open the golden clasp. A long tube of red lipstick emerged from the leather satchel, twisted delicately in her immaculately manicured nails and applied, almost erotically, to her soft, full lips.

The attendant, greying hair and creased cheeks betraying his older years, watched her confident display over the rims of his half-moon spectacles.

“How may I help you this evening, Ms?” His educated accent seemed perfectly matched to the half sneer he seemed incapable of losing.

“Laura Turner. I have a table booked.” 

The woman avoided his gaze, as though acknowledging him would be an effort she couldn’t afford. Instead, a mirror emerged from her bag and she tweaked a stray black hair back into the neat bob that framed her pale, almost chiselled face.

‘Come alone and dress your best. That’s what he said,’ she thought to herself. ‘Wait until he sees this!’

As the attendant drew his boned finger slowly down the list, Laura popped the buttons of her dark overcoat. The first two showed just enough of her soft, white chest to draw the eye. The third button revealed the red dress beneath – and the soft curves that wore it so snugly.

“Yes, ma’am, your table is ready.” The attendant’s voice was monotone and disinterested, at best. “Your companion arrived some time ago. He’s waiting for you.”

‘Oh good, he’s nice and eager.’ Laura could barely control the satisfaction threatening to raise her lips to smile.

The attendant took her coat, then turned slowly and stepped inside the restaurant, gesturing to a table near the far wall. There sat a young man in dark-rimmed glasses, a laptop perched on the table. The attendant sneered, as though disapproving of this. As the woman brushed past him, he turned back with a wrinkle of his nose.

Her measured step covered the distance to the table in no time. The sound of her heels was unmistakable, but the man refused to look up. Laura scowled, as though robbed of an opportunity, but continued towards him. As she approached the table, his gaze raised from the screen, at last.

“Ahh, Miss Turner, thank you for coming!”

The man made to stand until Laura raised her hand to stop him.

“Oh, there’s no need for that!”

She stepped to his side and slowly bent to kiss his cheek, not once, but three times. His eyes caught the full sight of her ample breasts heaving against the plunging neckline of her dress.

The man accepted the kisses and watched as his companion turned her back to him for a second, adjusting her dress enough that the material pulled tight around the sensual curve of her waist. Finally, she slipped into the chair opposite him and he closed the laptop screen with a snap.

Laura watched him lay the flat of his palm over the closed screen, his large, manly hand gleaming with the golden wedding band around his finger.

“Mr Barnett, I assume.”

A passing stranger might have thought it strange how Laura Turner’s voice now seemed so sweet and light, in this new man’s presence. With a purse of her lips, she hailed a passing waiter for a glass of rosé and settled her elbows on the table. The angle pressed her breasts closer together, creating a deep valley between them.

Her companion noticed this, his gaze drawn to her pale skin. His cufflink scraped across the table as he leaned casually back in his chair. Tweaking the wrist of his light grey suit revealed the pressed shirt beneath. One hand idly ruffled his hair in a very well practised motion.

‘God he loves himself.´ Laura sneered internally. Her eyes cast over him, lingering where his suit fit tightly around his frame. ‘Mind you, though… I’ve worked with worse.’

“Please, call me Tom.” His lips curled, but only on one side. Whether the smile was intended to be friendly or arrogant wasn’t easy to identify. “Tom Barnett.”

The man held out his hand for Laura to shake. She took his coarse palm into hers, allowing him to firmly shake her slender, outstretched hand before his fingers slipped slowly away, almost unwillingly.

“Nice to meet you, Tom.”

He smiled, looking directly into Laura’s eyes. She could almost hear the unspoken words: ‘Yes, I know it is.’ 

The pair paused as two drinks were set quietly in front of them. After a sip each, Tom spoke again.

“I see your company has applied for an investment loan, Ms Turner.” His tone was very business-like, but his eyes never left her chest.

“Laura.”

He blinked, looking into her eyes at last.

“I’m sorry?”

“Please, call me Laura.”

Tom smiled – or smirked. Laura couldn’t tell which, really. She just knew she wanted to smack him for it.

“Laura. Lovely. I’ve been looking through your company records, Laura.” He looked at her with that same lecherous leer when he used her name. “I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what to tell you, though.”

Laura stared him down, across the table.

“You should say whatever you feel is necessary, Mr Barnett.”

He seemed to flinch at the use of his surname but pressed on regardless.

“You see, my company needs assurance that you can handle such a…” He paused here to lick his lips, his lewd gaze sliding over her figure. “Such a large investment package.”

Laura raised a single eyebrow. His intention was plastered all over his face, she thought, with that despicable grin. He thought he was so clever.

“I can assure you, Mr Barnett,” Laura whispered through pursed lips. “I can handle a package of any size.”

He let out a revolting little chuckle. Although it shamed her, that sound pulled at Laura’s core and her thighs closed together. Something about his confidence spoke to her inner urges, as much as she hated to admit it. 

“I am sure that’s the case, Laura. Really, I am.” He sat back with a smug look and folded his arms behind his head, blatantly allowing himself to admire her cleavage. “However, we would require a great incentive to take such a risk on a company such as yours.”

Laura could've laughed aloud as his tongue caressed his lips and he stared at her as though she were a meal to devour. ‘I didn’t think he’d be this easy.’ She slipped the expensive heel from her foot and folded her legs. When she spoke, it came almost as a whisper; so soft and seductively sweet.

“This incentive, Mr Barnett…” Her bare foot playfully brushed his calf, her lip caught erotically between her pearly whites. “Do I give it directly to you?”

The two shared a look across the polished wooden surface, mirroring each other with a long, delicate lick of their lips.

“I think that would be best, yes,” Tom eventually replied, his leg sliding to one side, allowing her bare foot to stroke sensually along the inside of his leg. "It would give me a sense of relief if this could be handled between the two of us."

Laura scooted her chair closer to the table. Leaning back, she slid her foot delicately along his thigh until her toes found the pronounced swell inside his trouser leg. Her nibbled lip, tilted head and accompanying giggle was a coy, seductive look she'd mastered long ago. It worked a treat; Tom's eyes closed and his chest swelled with the intake of breath.

Laura spoke softly enough that Tom would strain to listen, but she knew she held his attention. 

“Did you just come here to keep watch on me, Tom?” Her lips pushed together in a beautiful red pout before she continued. “I was expecting something a little more hands-on.”

Laura's pout was in full force, lips full and shining; supplemented by her big, bewitching eyes. Her toes curled around the gently pulsating shaft tucked to Tom's thigh.

Tom's jaw clenched tight and his hands balled into fists with the slow, steady stroking of her foot across the swollen head of his manhood. Laura allowed his urges to build and get the better of him.  She stretched and arched her back, feeling the fabric of the dress tighten around her chest. She knew he was watching as she shook out her hair and combed her fingers through it with a breathy sigh.

She slipped her foot back down his leg and tucked it into her heel, bringing Tom from his reverie. Leaning forward to rest against the table now forced her breasts closer together, deepening her cleavage even further. Her lips turned up at the corners when she addressed the man across the table.

“So, do you think I can take a look at this... Investment package, Mr Barnett? I could show you what safe, talented hands you would be entrusting it to.”

Mr Barnett cleared his throat, adjusting his cuffs as his gaze fell slowly down to the swell of the creamy breasts barely contained within their red prison. With that, he snatched up his laptop and tucked it into the bag hanging from the back of his chair.
“Well, Miss Turner, I...”

“Laura.” She smiled, pleasantly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, ignoring how his eyes were lost in her chest.
“Laura. I think that...” Tom continued when he finally met Laura's pupils once again. His composure seemed to return with yet another tweak of his cuff, then a tug on his collar, his neck rolling inside it. “I think that we should perhaps go upstairs. I have a room there where we can discuss your... assets and how they might be better handled. What do you say?”

“Wonderful!” She stepped up from the table, her clutch-bag tucked against her side. Her other arm extended, for Mr Barnett to link with his own, as he got to his feet. “Lead on, Mr Barnett.”

His arm linked through hers and the pair weaved their way between the tables and out of the restaurant, the gold band on Mr Barnett's finger slowly turned in her fingertips as they walked.

The lobby echoed with her every footfall. The man on reception looked up as Laura strutted by, his eyes scanning over her full figure and down her pale, bare legs. She could feel his stare upon her all the way and it only added an extra swagger to her stride.

Alighting on the stairs, Laura's arm extricated itself from Mr Barnett's. Instead, she walked a couple of steps ahead of her companion. Her shapely waist bounced from left to right with every step, the tight dress conforming to her every contour, perfectly within Mr Barnett's eye-line.

“Which floor are you on, Mr Barnett?”

Mr Barnett cleared his throat, coughing as he strained to tear his eyes away from the perfectly peachy posterior before him.
“Floor four.”

“Thank you, Mr Barnett. Another two flights to suffer, I'm afraid, then.”

“Yes...” his reply trailed off, distracted once more by the swish and sway of Laura's enticing figure. 

Enraptured, he could see that her dress hitched up a little higher with every step. Slowly, the dress lifted and lifted until the fabric barely covered her perfectly round cheeks.

“Your... Your dress is riding up a little, Laura.”

She turned on the stair to look at him, her eyes lingering on his.

“Are you looking at my ass, Mr Barnett?” she spoke slowly, with the lightness of a lifelong tease.

“Merely your dress, Miss Turner!” Tom's lips tightened with a look that she was sure he'd practised in the mirror as 'flirtatious'. “It's doing a sterling job of covering your ass, for the moment.”

Laura continued to climb, glancing back at him with her lip pinched between her teeth. Her fingers slowly peeled the fabric higher, exposing her soft, round ass to his hungry gaze, until it settled around her waist. Tom stared at the beautiful, bouncing bottom before him - the round cheeks dancing with every step – for a few seconds before he noticed something.

“Ohh. Decided against underwear for this evening, I see.” His tone was laced with hunger and it only emboldened her further to know she was succeeding.

“Mmm. I find panties can just... Get in the way,” she cooed, reaching back to slowly stroke the soft swell of her cheek right before his eyes.

She bounded up onto the fourth-floor landing and shuffled her dress back down to preserve her decency. Seeing the flash of disappointment cross his face, she barely managed to hold back the cackle dying to burst forth.

“Fourth floor. Lead on, Tom,” she said, holding out her arm again and allowing him to walk her down the narrow hallway to the very last door. Her heels still beat noisily on the soft carpet floor as they walked.

At the door, Tom fumbled in his pockets for the key and Laura escaped his grip. The door opened and he stepped inside, placing his bag as Laura walked into the spacious room. The door clicked shut and Laura admired the decor, switching on the small lamps perched either side of the immaculate double bed. A table overlooked the room and it was this which Laura bent over to place her belongings.

She turned and found Tom watching her, his fingers fumbling with his shoelaces.

“Are you looking at my ass again, Tom?” she cooed,  slipping her heels off casually at the foot of the bed.

Her fingers beckoned him towards her with an elegant wave.

“It's hard not to. You do have a peachy ass, girl.”

'Girl! I'm more of a woman than you know, boy,' she thought to herself, wishing she could verbalise her thoughts. Instead, she flashed him a row of gleaming white teeth and dropped to her knees.

“I hope that's not the only thing that's hard, Tom.” Her tone was almost liquid, it poured over him so easily; light and seductively soft, with the trace of a giggle beneath it all. 

She slipped his laces and pulled the expensive leather shoes from his feet, taking the socks with them. She looked up at him from beneath her eyebrows with her full lips cheekily pursed; eyes huge and inviting. 

Her fingertips walked their way up his legs, gliding over the unmistakable hardness inside his trousers. “Ooooh,” she purred, her tongue teasing along her squirming lips. “Is this my big package you promised, Mr Barnett?”

“That big dick is all for you, sexy.”

'There's only one big dick in this room,' she thought to herself, tracing his covered length.

Laura coaxed open his belt, letting it hang as she unbuttoned his waistband. The zip was slowly drawn down as the material tented against Tom's intense erection. Slowly, inch by inch, his rock solid shaft emerged, before the tip finally sprung free, bouncing in front of her.

Laura didn't hesitate to catch him in her mouth, pushing the jeans down to his ankles as she leaned forward to slide him into her throat. The walls echoed with his strangled moans as she closed her lips tight around him, pulling back far enough for her hand to constrict around his length.

Laura looked up, her tongue laid out for his cock to glide along while she stroked him, his exposed head sliding over her hot, wet muscle as she tugged him back and forth. Tom's eyes were closed, his head thrown back. Rumbling moans of approval filled the room from deep within his chest.

Hands clutched at Laura's hair, but she smacked them impatiently away and squeezed a thick drop of his precum onto her tongue. To her surprise, he complied, tucking his hands behind his head. Tom's hips jerked forward, his body shivering while Laura slapped his swollen tip against her tongue before she sucked him down deeply once more.

She couldn't hide her sneer, even with the dick enclosed in her lips. She pulled back to examine his length, his frustrated moans as her warmth left him only making her giggle. Laura had him right where she wanted him. 

Her hand tucked between her thighs, her fingertips stroking gently across her clit.  Every touch caused her hips to jolt before she could slowly start to rub her throbbing button hard. The wriggle of her hips against her fingers set her whole body into motion.
Feeling her wetness grow, she allowed her fingers to brush through those soft lips to test the hot, pulsating entrance to her pussy.

Her wetness was immediately audible, the ease with which her fingers slid softly inside soliciting an uncontrollable groan of pleasure. Being here, on her knees, with Tom right where she wanted him made her pussy pulse with power. 

Stroking the cock in her hand, she watched her fingers work, her thumb rolling expertly over the crown of his tip with each stroke. His hips twitched and he exhaled in response to each delicate, tickling touch. She couldn't get both hands on his length, but her fingers barely closed around him, he was so thick.

'I've played with worse,' she thought as she stretched out her tongue and gathered a beading drop of precum with the tip of her tongue.

The receptive moan above her turned her lips with a satisfied grin.

'Perhaps I'll enjoy fucking Tom Barnett after all. Let's give him something to moan about.'

Laura Turner's lips knew exactly what to do: enveloping his shaft as her head pushed forward. She felt his thick, warm tip nudge the back of her throat, sliding in just an inch or so before her nose was pressed tight against his pelvis, lips sealed around his root. With a constriction of her throat, she sucked him in, rewarded immediately with a guttural groan and the jerk of his hips.

Again, he reached for her hair and again she smacked his hands away, dislodging herself while he whimpered his displeasure. She delved down deep once more, but now her hands gripped his arse cheeks, pulling him in further still.

'You'll moan for me, you fucker,' she thought, cramming every inch of him into her throat.Immediately, she pulled back, then plunged him in once again, fucking her face against his iron-hard cock.

Making him howl and moan with lust gave her a sick and almost sadistic pleasure. It wasn't his enjoyment that was making her pussy drip, as she caught a warm trickle in her palm and began to rub it back into her wet, swollen folds. Laura loved the power she had over him in that moment.

Rolling back onto her heels, she looked up at his face, slick with sweat. The length popped from her lips, standing to attention mere inches away. Her fingers encircled him again, rubbing him with a slight twist of her wrist before her mouth captured his swollen head.
The moans came quickly now as she held him, his exposed tip subjected to her tongue's lapping spin-cycle, while she squeezed hot drops of precum onto her tickling muscle. Laura's eyes never left his while she furiously stroked him into her mouth, making a show of the hand buried between her thighs.

“You like that?” she purred, sliding him from her lips long enough to trail her tongue from balls to tip.

“Fuck, you know I do! I think you love that big cock, don't you?”

Laura didn't reply; she only smirked. The grin on Tom's face, however, suggested he'd missed the irony in her expression. She stood up, her fingers gripping his shaft, leading him to the bed.

Raising her leg, with one foot on the edge, she shimmied the tight red dress over her hips once more, exposing the soft, smooth sex dripping between her thighs. Two fingers slowly teased through her wet, exposed folds, which she then fed into his mouth.

She leaned forward to speak softly in his ear as he hungrily sucked her fingers. “If you get on your knees and show me how much you love my pussy, Mr Barnett, I'm sure I'll be willing to let you show me the merits of... That big package you're offering.”

He dropped to the floor instantly, hands pawing at her hips while he kissed and nuzzled her pelvis, kissing down the soft skin of her thighs. She watched his progress down one leg and up the other, nibbling his way around the already throbbing core of her cunt. Impatiently, her squirming hips sought his lips.

"Keep still! I'm wet enough, just eat me!' she screamed internally. Seizing his hair in both of her hands, she swept his mouth directly into the dripping, leaking core of her cunt.

Her hips undulated as she squirmed on his tongue, his hungry lapping stemming the steady stream of sweetness seeping from her sopping sex. His nose grazed her clit and she jumped, moaning and grinding down against him, her lips slipping easily along his skin.

Laura could feel his eyes watching her ride his face, her body dancing and rolling atop him. She ignored him. She was having too much fun fucking his filthy face. When she did look down, her fingernails bit into his scalp and he howled into her sex.

“Fingers, Mr Barnett!” she demanded, pressing her clit to his mouth and confidently grinding on him. “Finger-fuck me while I ride your face!”

Laura really had him where she wanted him now, looking down into his wide eyes as she felt his fingers slide through her lips. In just a few seconds, they eagerly burrowed inside her.

Her legs quivered, her lungs emptied in a cry of need and Tom was pulled even deeper into her as she recklessly rode his tongue.
“That's it. Good boy. Fuck that little pussy nice and deep!” she howled, staring into his eyes as her cries echoed around the room. “Look into my eyes! You want me to cum on your face, so you can fuck me, Mr Barnett?”

His nodding was almost as furious as the grinding of Laura's hips. She released him long enough for a deep breath and the words to tumble desperately from his lips.

"Yes! Yes! Cum on my face, Laura. Cum on my face. I want to fuck you, fuck your beautiful pussy...!"

She cut him off, hauling his lips against her pulsing clit. Her grip tightened, pelvis in overdrive as she rode him harder and faster, her echoing cries building to the crescendo of her ultimate, shrieking howl of pleasure. She looked down as she came, smearing her sodden sex all over his waiting face, muscles and limbs quivering with the force of her climax.

She released him as her climax petered out, falling backwards onto the bed. Her legs spread wide, the swollen, reddened lips of her pussy exposed to the air, she watched Tom stand up, his wet face plastered with a stupid grin. Diving up, she snatched his shirt over his head and grabbed his hair, dragging him on top of her.

“Don't just stand there grinning!” She grabbed two handfuls of his rear and squeezed, her fingernails clawing his skin as she pulled him close. “Fuck me! Show me what that cock can do, boy!”

Her hips thrust upwards as her legs ensnared him, pulling him down to grind her wet, tender lips along the length of his already dripping shaft. He moaned at the contact, rubbing his length through her lips and back again. Laura was impatient.

“Fuck me!” she yelled in his ear, her hand seizing him by his hardness and guiding it to the inviting heat of her sex. Tom's groans ringing in her ear only fuelled her rolling hips to take him deeper. Swallowing his length in a single stroke, her fingernails pulled him all the way into her wet, sensitive embrace.

The deep, ragged breath against her neck betrayed the need surging through his solid cock at that moment. The clap of his balls against her arse only motivated him further. The mattress dented under his hands as he lifted himself up. Kneeling above her, he pulled himself back and began to fill her once more, his hands pawing at her body despite her dress.

Having her tits mauled beneath that red fabric was more satisfying than Laura would have expected. His salacious gaze, fixed on the bouncing mounds of her breasts, guided his groping hands to her chest. The dress could barely hold them and it only took a tug on the neckline for them both to jump free of their housing. Tom's hands immediately, hungrily caught and squeezed them tight. The fingertips pinching her nipples caused Laura's back to arch, her chest reaching high as she unleashed a very unexpected howl of approval.

“Oh, you cheeky little fuck. Yes. Pinch them. Smack those big tits, boy!”

Lips from ear to ear, Tom complied, both hands smacking firmly across Laura's firm, throbbing nipples. His hands seized her tight and squeezed, levering against her chest as he began to slam himself into her deeper and harder.

“That's more like it! Fuck me, Tom! Fuck me like the little whore you want me to be!”

Her words caused his jaw to clench, his teeth gritting tightly. She moaned to the ceiling as he fucked her even harder, her flesh crying out from the force of his grip.

“Oh that's what you like, isn't it? You wanted a nice, dirty fucking whore, didn't you, Tom? You came here hoping I'd be a filthy little slut for you and let you use my hot little cunt, didn't you, Tom?”

He didn't reply, other than growling into the air and throwing his hips into her with all of his might. Laura could feel her building climax, but the sheen on Tom's forehead and his endless groans sounded ominous.

“You want to cum in my little cunt, don't you, Tom?”

His groan turned into a howl and his eyes latched on her, filled with that lustful rage she knew so well. She knew he was too close to stop.

“So do it! Fucking cum in me, like the filthy little whore I am, Tom! That's what you want, isn't it? To fuck my whore cunt and fill me? So cum in me, you dirty little fuck!”

Tom's groans halted in an instant, every muscle stiffening for a moment before he exhaled – a deep, raucous roar of need. His hips still thrusting as he collapsed on top of Laura's chest, his teeth found the nape of her neck. Biting down and growling into her skin, he pumped hard inside her – and she felt the hot shot of his seed fill her, the first of many as his convulsing body emptied into her.
Laura's body was on fire, every streak of cum inside her pushing her closer and closer. She was too close to ignore the tension in her muscles and the fire burning under her skin.

Pushing his still shivering body off her, she rolled him onto his back. Tom was laid out on the bed, exhausted, as her thighs straddled his face. His eyes opened just in time to see Laura's pussy press to his lips and find her fingers in his hair.

His eyes wide, he looked up in shock as Laura gripped him tight and pushed her hips against him. Tom's hands reached up, as though to protest, before hugging her hips. Her wet, cum-soaked lips slid across his mouth and face only half a dozen times before she too tightened up, her muscles shaking. The full-body spasms of her climax rolled her dripping pussy over his face, again and again. Shrieking into the empty room, the orgasm tore through her and she drained herself on Tom's hapless face.

Spent and satisfied, Laura dismounted him and chuckled. His face was soaked, coated in their cum. She bent to lick up a particularly thick drop from his cheek with a full-bodied laugh. His eyes were still swimming as she climbed off the bed and adjusted her dress. Tom lay there, spread naked across the bed, soaked and thoroughly used, as Laura took a tissue from her bag and tidied herself up, picking up her phone from the table.

“So I'll be expecting that investment package by Monday then, Mr Barnett, as we agreed.” She glanced in the mirror and touched up her hair, wiping away the streaks of mascara on her cheeks. “Bright and early Monday morning, I hope.” Taking the lipstick from her bag, she re-applied that beautiful red sheen to her lips.

Tom sat up on the bed and watched her for a minute.

“I haven't decided if I'm done assessing you yet, Ms Turner,” he told her. She turned to see the obnoxious grin smeared across his face. He tapped the bed next to her and gestured for her to sit. “I think we might need a couple of follow-up sessions before anything can be tied down.”

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"Well, you said it, Laura. I came here to find a whore and what a perfect whore I found. I'm not giving you up just yet. You're my little whore now, Laura. You'll be my whore as long as you need that money. You do still need the money, don't you, Ms Turner?"
"You know I do," her voice was low, almost a growl.

"Excellent. Then you appreciate that it's important that we keep on working closely together, to maintain our friendly relationship." His grin was despicable and Laura wished simply to smack it from his face. "Just think of it as a new role for you, in your company. 'Cocksucker-in-chief', perhaps? It has a nice ring to it."

Laura smiled, walking to the bed and kneeling to match his height.

“I think we both know that you're going to give me the money, Mr Barnett.” Laura waved her phone and returned his awful grin with one of her own. “Otherwise I think Mrs Barnett might be very interested to see what my phone might have accidentally recorded since we came into the room.”

With that, Laura pressed a button on the screen and the video played. She skipped to halfway through, the image falling perfectly on a shot of Tom hammering into her with his head thrown back in pleasure. The glint of his wedding ring was unmistakable.
The colour drained from Tom's face and he stammered for a second before the video disappeared with another tap on the screen.

“I'm sure your boss would be very interested as well, wouldn't he? Oh dear. Imagine that, divorced and fired on the same day!"

Laura tutted, but her face shone with a victorious grin. "Monday morning, Mr Barnett. The full amount, please. There's a good boy. You know you've had a good deal." She patted him on the cheek, wrinkling her nose as her fingers came away wet. She shot him a smile as her tongue lapped up the warm, errant droplet trickling down her finger. “I believe you have cum on your face, Mr Barnett. You should probably shower.”

She stood and walked to the door,  lifting her dress to flash him her arse, just as she had on the way up. She gave it one little swat and opened the door wide.

“G'night, Mr Barnett,” she cooed. "Don't go forgetting about me, will you?"