Secreterial Sin and Red Knickers Part 2
- 2 years ago
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Secreterial Sin, And Red Knickers free porn video
Breakfast of eggs and bacon wasn't enough today.
If only my red strips of bacon were the red lace of her panties. If only instead of tearing this meat apart, I could shred the flimsy fabric with my teeth to reach her puckered bud, to taste juices surely warmer and far tastier than Orange Tropicana.
From across the room, she smiled at me. I swallowed, turned away, my eyes watering from the sight of her shapely hips swaying to the light Blues music Café Cascade, Taj, Goa was playing today. As she neared with her plateful of sausage and pancakes, I turned back - cool as a cucumber, my I'm-The-Perfect-Boss-With-No-Penis expression plastered onto my face. "Mr. Jaiswal," she began, "Sir, You should have really come for the jog this morning. The beach side is especially beautiful that early?"
"Yes?" I asked, feigning disinterest, as my eyes roved over empty pages of Business Insider seeing nothing but the curves of her body, as she must have jogged. The way her breasts, squashed against each other must have risen, and fallen as if keeping sensuous beat to the music she must have played. I thought of her in tight lycra shorts, and how I could have gone jogging, torn them off, and taken her on the beach - our combined bodies covered in nothing but sand.
She was still excitedly talking, I realized, as I looked up again - zeroing in on her lips which were biting a sausage daintily now. My mind did cartwheels as her little front teeth bit into the meat, and her full luscious lips descended after, closing in the bit of food. As if on cue, another sausage, somewhere lower down, jumped a little bit.
This wouldn’t work, I knew. Far from thinking about work, this innocent little chit had only distracted me from it.
"I researched everything you need on the Mittals, Sir," she was saying now, "I've put in everything into a file, and emailed it to you - what they've built, their contractors, their controversies, upcoming projects - anything you might need to complete the deal today. The Hotel has been in great loss, but Mr. Mittal might still try to worm too much money out of you sir. For that…"
I eyed my precious little secretary, and the place where the blouse met, right before hinting at the delicious flesh inside. I traced up a pathway, hot as coals up along the throbbing vein in her neck, as she busied herself, arranging files, and sipping juice at the same time. I wanted to brand her there - at the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and make the mark scream my name to every asshole who thought he could be theirs. I'm not a wild man, no - atleast I didn't think I was - that is till I met Mrinalini Thakker, my little intern, replacement for my old pregnant secretary, just out of colleague, and my second cousin who sent my brain on flight mode, and made me want to lose control in ways I'd never imagined.
Delicious, and out of bounds, that is what this woman was.
…
I'd begun kissing her lips even before we reached the room. Her husband, was out of sight, and my soaring member could wait no longer. Hastily as, I slid the key card into the slot, I sucked her plump lower lip into mine, imagining a more intimate sliding of different parts that was soon to follow. As the door opened and I tumbled in, with handfuls of her, so did her mouth, and my tongue, swiping across her lips probed in battling with her tongue, feeling her texture, tasting the sweet mint of experience around her teeth.
I wondered fleetingly what she would taste like, but there was no time to waste - Mrs. Mittal and I had less than an hour, and I needed to sign this hotel deal today.
If only my red strips of bacon were the red lace of her panties. If only instead of tearing this meat apart, I could shred the flimsy fabric with my teeth to reach her puckered bud, to taste juices surely warmer and far tastier than Orange Tropicana.
From across the room, she smiled at me. I swallowed, turned away, my eyes watering from the sight of her shapely hips swaying to the light Blues music Café Cascade, Taj, Goa was playing today. As she neared with her plateful of sausage and pancakes, I turned back - cool as a cucumber, my I'm-The-Perfect-Boss-With-No-Penis expression plastered onto my face. "Mr. Jaiswal," she began, "Sir, You should have really come for the jog this morning. The beach side is especially beautiful that early?"
"Yes?" I asked, feigning disinterest, as my eyes roved over empty pages of Business Insider seeing nothing but the curves of her body, as she must have jogged. The way her breasts, squashed against each other must have risen, and fallen as if keeping sensuous beat to the music she must have played. I thought of her in tight lycra shorts, and how I could have gone jogging, torn them off, and taken her on the beach - our combined bodies covered in nothing but sand.
She was still excitedly talking, I realized, as I looked up again - zeroing in on her lips which were biting a sausage daintily now. My mind did cartwheels as her little front teeth bit into the meat, and her full luscious lips descended after, closing in the bit of food. As if on cue, another sausage, somewhere lower down, jumped a little bit.
This wouldn’t work, I knew. Far from thinking about work, this innocent little chit had only distracted me from it.
"I researched everything you need on the Mittals, Sir," she was saying now, "I've put in everything into a file, and emailed it to you - what they've built, their contractors, their controversies, upcoming projects - anything you might need to complete the deal today. The Hotel has been in great loss, but Mr. Mittal might still try to worm too much money out of you sir. For that…"
I eyed my precious little secretary, and the place where the blouse met, right before hinting at the delicious flesh inside. I traced up a pathway, hot as coals up along the throbbing vein in her neck, as she busied herself, arranging files, and sipping juice at the same time. I wanted to brand her there - at the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and make the mark scream my name to every asshole who thought he could be theirs. I'm not a wild man, no - atleast I didn't think I was - that is till I met Mrinalini Thakker, my little intern, replacement for my old pregnant secretary, just out of colleague, and my second cousin who sent my brain on flight mode, and made me want to lose control in ways I'd never imagined.
Delicious, and out of bounds, that is what this woman was.
…
I'd begun kissing her lips even before we reached the room. Her husband, was out of sight, and my soaring member could wait no longer. Hastily as, I slid the key card into the slot, I sucked her plump lower lip into mine, imagining a more intimate sliding of different parts that was soon to follow. As the door opened and I tumbled in, with handfuls of her, so did her mouth, and my tongue, swiping across her lips probed in battling with her tongue, feeling her texture, tasting the sweet mint of experience around her teeth.
I wondered fleetingly what she would taste like, but there was no time to waste - Mrs. Mittal and I had less than an hour, and I needed to sign this hotel deal today.
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