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As I climbed back off the desk, he pulled me back to him, kissed me roughly, then, kneading my ass through my, once more pulled down, skirt, added, �...I’m sure you’ll be better next time, won’t you, Ms. Thomas?” All I could do was nod as I wiped the remainder of the cum from the desk, my face and chest off with the spare jacket that I kept in my backpack. I collected my clothes off of the floor and had just tucked my glasses into my bag when he zipped up his trousers, dressed as though nothing. The clock on the dashboard glowed 8:17 a.m. After one bite of rubbery bacon and egg, the front door opened. Sherry stood with her arms folded and glared at the truck blocking the driveway. He smiled and waved. Uncrossing her arms, she gave him the beckoning finger curl. It was not an inviting signal. He felt far from optimistic. When he’d crossed the threshold into no man’s land, Sherry slammed the door. ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘Having breakfast.’ Holding out the nearly intact sandwich, he. More

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