” Her voice throbbed with emotion, making my eyes sting.She yanked her shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside.Then she reached for me, steppin... carefully into me, prolonging the moment when our bare skin would touch. She gripped my hips, her fingers flexing restlessly, her breathing quick and harsh. The tips of my breasts touched her first, sending a sudden rush of sensation through my body. I gasped. She crushed me to her with a growl, lifting my feet from the floor and carrying me. Here youare respected for what you are, a woman that has been able to recognize hernatural superiority and live it. Behind the reception desk is a well built man, sandy hair, tan skin,wearing a business suit and tie. Outside in the "real" world many would thinkthat he was a sports figure rather than a receptionist. My how the roleschange to their natural state in this place. The image of this man isrepeated many times in this special place because all of the workers are male.All are as. More

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