Sloane.Being well versed in the art of social conviviality, I shortstopped the impending business discussion with what, in the higher corporate circle..., is called an ice breaker.“Ms. Sloane, I’m thinking of having my shirts monogramed. Spiffy, no?”“No.”“Huh?”What’s wrong with Bertram Owen Osgood Brewster?She handed me a pen, “Write the monogram out, Birdie.”Done. I gave it the double-o, and it took but a mo, “Oh.”“Birdie, Ms. Lane asked me to bring you up to speed on Gibraltar Soup.”Huh? I’d. His hand was rubbing my bulge in my panties. He then stopped pulled my white knickers off with one of my pantie legs catching round my ankle. I wrapped my black stocking legs around his waist again and as we kissed tenderly once more he guided his cock to my awaiting bum hole.Holding my arse checks apart I allowed my old lover to guide his cock head into my accommodating bum hole. He started to give me a great buggering. Un be known to us my elderly cleaning lady had come into my home a day. More

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