“Don,” she whispered, “fuck me, please. Oh yes, Don. Give me that big dick.”My cock stiffened as I heard my name.Surely this must be a case of...mistaken identity? There must be a guy at school she was lusting after, or maybe even an actor?But her next words removed all doubt.“Fuck me, Mr. Naughton!” she groaned in a hoarse whisper that I could still make out distinctly.That was me, Don Naughton, her employer. There could be no doubt.I closed the video and weighed my options for a few moments. My. The double-decker lurched. I toppled; caught the chrome rail. He laughed. 'This is our stop! Come on!' Doors folded back with a wheeze of compressed air. I shouted to the driver. 'Thank you!' He nodded a smile. 'O' reight, lass.' Feet splashed on the wet flags. I shivered; spread my tiny umbrella. He hunched beneath it, wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me into the throng of woollen overcoats, plastic rain hoods and trilby hats. A neon light led the way. Dodging the buses, we. More

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