THAT had me on edge; when your victim is doing your thinking for you, it's you that ends up in the trap ... I sat and she put her head in my lap and I...played with her hair for a minute, then poked her between the tits. "What was that?" she asked."I was practicing," I retorted."That wasn't a knife." Lucky you." You're hard." She rubbed my fly with her cheek."Yeah." I couldn't exactly lie about it."Good. I'm ready when you are." For what?" Sex." Don't you think we have some basic issues to get. She was now rubbing my shaft vigorously and I could feel the tension building up. She sensed it coming since I pulled my stomach in and my eyes closed tight. She stopped kissing and moved down on me. She continued to masturbate me and soon I felt it coming up. I let go a jet of semen up in the air about a foot high (I think), it came in 5 or 6 rapid spurts. All flying up and finding its way down on her hand and on my pubic hair. She shagged me to the last drop. I was breathing hard, trying to. That would seem reasonable, because she was still wearing her gray silk shirt.She been working there for ages and could navigate there, even in semi-darkness. Soon found the small kitchen/lunch room, opened the fridge and took two cans of beer. That left 3 cans in the fridge. Man, somebody on the 9th floor were very, very naive!Then she froze.Had there been a tiny sound somewhere?She stood absolutely still for a long time. More than a minute passed. She thought about trowing the beers away, but. ?” “What?” He smirked just a little. “Oh Jesus, did... was I loud?” He smiled and I hit him again, gasping in a couple of lungfuls of air which I hadn’t realised I’d needed until my body thanked me. A nearby guard approached. “Mademoiselle? Vous allez bien?” “Oui,” I panted. “Ça va.” He didn’t seem convinced. “Il y a un problème?” “Non. Pas problème... pas de problème,” I corrected myself. “Merci, monsieur. Merci.” He remained a little unsure, but retreated when I grabbed Adam’s arm and started.
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