She tries again, this time moving it up and down a couple times, each time pulling it out a little bit farther.“Oh, god, you’re killing me. Please...just get it out” Jemma blurts out, breathing heavily now, obviously enthralled with being fucked in the ass by her own buttplug.“This helped last time” I say as I move one hand down to her pussy, rubbing inbetween her lips, getting my fingers as wet as I can from her soaking fuckhole. “OH GOD OH, FUCK!” Jemma yells out as I rub her some more. I pull. That still didn’t explain why I was in her office in the first place. Let’s face it: I’m dead, or rather my job is. I also had a bit of resentment mixed in: What is she doing back here at this hour?Then as she passed in front of me she said calmly but firmly, “Please don’t leave; stay where you are. And don’t apologize, don’t say anything.”I wondered if perhaps she would call the police too. Was it public lewdness if I was inside an office? Maybe the cops in this New Jersey town would laugh it. More

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