I kept breathing into her hear as her body stiffened. “this is what you need slut, you need to be used like a no good whore, don’t you?” “yes ...ir” is all she could muster. I instructed her to stand up, she instinctively did and put her hands behind her. I stood in front of her, in her personal space, first pinching her nipples while she stared into space, then I lowered my right hand into her sport legging. Slut jumped up and whisperred “please sir, no, please” just as my index finger rubbed. At a trade show, she could pass for eye candy in a technology booth, at least until she picked up a disrespectful male engineer and lectured him, in the air, on real-time process control technology. The dress had a neck-to-hem golden zipper, clearly adjustable for her choice in what she wanted to show. Today, she showed just a bit of cleavage. With the heels, she was several inches taller than Art, although that had never slowed him down socially.Her arms rippled with feminine muscle. I. More

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