Her head was right back, eyes closed, a smile on her face as I added a second finger and pushed the digits deeper inside her, feeling the increasing w...tness of her. I knelt beside her, my knees hard up against the bench and rested my other hand on her taut stomach, bare in the gap between shorts and shirt. My right hand pushed deeper inside her, fingers circling and massaging; the other slid up her body, under her shirt ond on to her breasts, firm yet malleable, like ripe grapefruit. She gave. I mean, like they’re all old, you know. They’re as old as my father! The youngest guy at work is like in his thirties! And all but one of them is married. Most of them are pretty dorky, too. That’s what made them perfect for my little games.They all tried. Once they got a few peeks down my blouse and up my skirt they all tried to hit on me. All but the one guy who isn’t married. Paul is probably the oldest guy in the office. He’s probably close to fifty years old. He’s a widower who lives. More

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