"I want a mirror on the ceiling," you whimper. Just the sound of your voice causes me to push faster, slapping against you harder. We hear that wonder...ully urgent popping sound that appears when fucking intensifies.My hands slide off your shoulders and push through under your arms till I find your breasts. I pull you backward and down as you repeatedly arch your waist and then straighten it, jamming yourself down on my big prick.My upper hand lets go of your tit and grabs your arm at the wrist,. I was thirty-four at the time of the incident I’m going to describe.Ellen Mae Kramer was twenty-eight. She was rather heavy-set, although I enjoyed looking at her ample backside when she wore tight trousers. She had dark, almost black hair, which sometimes she let hang below her shoulders and at other times she would pin it up in a bun. She had steel-rimmed glasses and nice gray-green eyes.I knew she wasn’t married, but beyond that I had little information about her life outside the office. She. More

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