She would say your not home and with a seductive smile I’d ask If I can wait for you inside. We would sit and she would make me something like a tea...or coffee. I notice her eyes keep admiring my figure, my large breasts peaking out of my dress, my long beautiful legs. I can tell she is thinking about us together wondering if I’m your lover. And she starts to ask, obviously her imagination running wild. I can see her cheeks blush. I tell her that I’m your lover from America and that I’m here to. I swung around in my chair, wide eyed, to see Mr. Morrison standing there reading over some important document or report, as per usual. ‘Miss Tanner, it seems I have lost my translator. I need you to find me a new one today, and, try to find someone a little more agreeable.’ he said before going back into his office. I sat in stunned disbelief. A translator. I couldn’t believe my luck, but, how to approach this, that was the problem. I knew that it was outside my job description, but I had. Then she brushed it over them again. She did this routine a couple of times and each time I realized they were becoming more sensitive to the rub of the crop. I found myself actually wanting her so flick them then touch them with the little piece of leather. I looked down and realized my cock was dancing like it had a mind of its own. She stopped using the crop on my nipples, kissed them each one time, then turned to face my cock. Realizing what she was going to do, I was about to object when. I feel you arch your back once more as my tongue slips from you clit to your cunt, lapping at the juices that steadily weep from your tender flower. A hand travels north, my palm gliding up your waist, finding your bosom which heaves with each heavy breath. Nipples pebbled and taut, the tease of my fingers sending a shuddering bolt to your clenching cunt. You moan loudly, rolling your hips against my unrelenting assault, riding my mouth with increased desire. The air turning blue as you.
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