Why not, I thought. Moving up further on the animal, I felt the heavy weight of the end of his penis move slowly down my belly as I inched forward. Wh...n it reached the crest of the mound, I stopped."Can you lift my legs over his back?" I asked Helen.She grabbed hold of first one and then the other, holding them until I had a chance to lock the feet together. In making the adjustment, however, I lost contact with the head of his organ. The big apple bounced on the top of my pussy, came to rest. "Oh, but I think you are, Miss Steel. Any girl who would let their boss do her anyhow, anywhere, anytime is a slut," he says, repeating my previous words. "You are a slut, Miss Steel. My little slut, aren't you?" He caresses my breasts softly, rubbing my nipples through the lace of my bra. Moaning, I arch into his touch, filling his hands. The folders slip from my fingers and drop to the floor. "I want you to say it, Miss Steel. I want to hear you admit that you are a slut." He pinches my. Everyone else seemed to make a bigger deal out of it than I did. I'd had one steady girlfriend or another for the better part of 17 years, and I was enjoying just being a bachelor. I'm 32 years old, aren't I entitled to a little freedom?I quietly admitted to myself, however, that my freedom might not be the only reason that I wouldn't call any of the women, wouldn't meet any of their single friends. I couldn't get my mind off the leggy brunette, the one from the Jazz Club. Perhaps it was her. Why’d you have to say that?’ He tried to smile, but I could tell he was struggling to restrain himself. ‘Yeah. So maybe you just shouldn’t touch me anymore. Okay?’ My stomach was quivering, and a big part of me still hoped he’d close the gap between us and do something, anything, that would lead us down the wrong path. He was a good friend. He gestured for me to continue walking back to the car, and followed along without another word or touch. The walk back seemed much longer than the walk.
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