It was no secret around the warehouse that I had it bad for Tami. So Annie would make sure to talk to me in her Cardiff way about the “little twat”, as she referred to Tami, while giving me hand jobs in her office.
“You’d split Tam’s little cunt.”
Annie’s spittle lubed hand stroked my cock vigorously.
“You get yourself nicked if you ever got this crackin’ beast all the way in her.”
Annie would go on and on until giving me peace by finally taking me into her highly skilled mouth.
Ah blissful slurping silence.Time to fantasize about Tami’s tiny twat.
Annie took one more pause to look up at me. Her blue eyes framed by jet black hair with my stiff nineteen year old cock glistening before her forty something face and added in her pronounced “Kadiff” accent, “Of course Rene’s big arse probably has no problem with big banger here. How is Little Miss Preppy Knickers these days?”
With that her red lipsticked lips parted in a smile.
“C’m ‘ere beastie.” With that she ran her decidedly pointed tongue up my balls, along the bottom of my shaft causing a near climax. She roughly clamped deft fingers around the base of my shaft.
“Aw-righhh. Not just yet ducks.”
I have to figure out a way to teach Rene these tricks without raising a, “where did you learn that”, question.
Tami burst into the office as if on cue. Her little head snapped to view my cock. I swear her jaw dropped as she surveyed that from which she had long demurred despite numerous overtures.
“It is what it is.” Annie smirked at her. “I told you Tam’s.”
Funny that Annie hadn’t given me her usual instruction to lock her office door for this deep conference.
- Wherehouse / The New Barbarians
- Wherehouse / Nobody Answered
- Wherehouse / Dive In Drive In
- Wherehouse / Do Respect Her Butt
- Wherehouse / Two Fingers Of Red
- Wherehouse / Nothing
- Wherehouse / Thanksgiving
- Wherehouse / On Notice
- Wherehouse Ellen
- Wherehouse Annie
- Wherehouse Tasha
- Wherehouse Tamara
- Wherehouse / When the Journaling is Over