She was taunting me or just trying to get me to admit what I was doing. “I… I’m sorry Ms. D.”“I should hope so.” She set down her stuff an... walked over to my desk. And, oh my God, she leaned over my desk again. My eyes were glued to her boobs. I mean, I could just about see her nipples. They were only obscured by the shadow of her bra cups. I think I gasped.“I would appreciate it if you would keep your eyes up here, little girl. I usually only have boys staring at me like this.” I was. After a few minutes of this, he sat back and pulled down his pants and underwear. My wife took his cock in her mouth and her head was going up and down on it rapidly. I could this quite clearly because of the parking lot light above her car. They didn't seem to be too concerned about the light shining on them. I guess things were too hot to worry about it.After another few minutes, she sat up in the seat and reached down under this little waitress skirt she was wearing and pulled off her. Daya entered the bathroom, and rested her hands on the sink, and stared into the mirror with the look of shock on her face. At the age of twenty - five, she is proud of her young body. Her hands went to the firm mounds of her breasts, and gently squeezed the flesh. A smile crossed her face as she turned to look at the reflection of her modest breasts that were well rounded and stood at attention. Daya struggled to clean herself, flashes of my massive cock filled her thoughts. No matter how hard. That was every morning with her. I couldn’t affectionately rub her thighs or back good night or good morning without springing the most massive erection. I remembered when erectile dysfunction was half of my act, but now, this tight, tiny little thing… I was so hard all the time it hurt. I jacked off constantly, just trying to get time with her that wasn’t overwhelmed with the most intense urge to make out with that delicious cunt, I’d whack off every day. And that didn’t work. I remember.
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