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Had caught, out of the corner of her eye, more than one them shaking their heads, rolling their eyes, or simply sighing with relief when she’d moved on after spending minutes explaining exactly what he or she should be doing despite the fact that they were already doing it. In her late 20’s Anita was still a very attractive woman, although it would be hard to notice that about her when she was at work. There she was a bundle of nerves in squinty glasses, her black, slightly curly hair yanked behind her head with a clip. Her slim figure was the result of nervous energy rather than exercise, unless you counted her constant prowling through the office as exercise. She didn’t drink coffee because she didn’t need it. Anita had understood what was happening to her, and realized that it was bad not only for her but for the company as well. Several of her best employees, people who had been with the company since its founding, had left, unable to cope with Anita’s becoming more and more of, as one departing employee had snarled, “…an anal-retentive control freak.” She herself had become an insomniac and a nail-biter. She’d known that she couldn’t go on like that without suffering some kind of physical or mental breakdown, but had no idea how to make herself let go. Who had time for yoga or meditation or any of those other relaxation techniques? She had a company to run and everything...had…to…be…perfect! But in recent months Anita’s situation had become much better. Although her personality remained unchanged she’d made an important discovery that had made a huge difference in her life. So now, every couple of weeks or sometimes more often, whenever the pressure began to build inside her and she felt herself coiling up like a watch-spring, snapping at her employees and practically grinding her teeth at the slightest problem or delay, Anita would sit down at her desk, take indian out her phone and send a text to her husband, Don. This text always consisted of just two letters, followed by a question mark: SN? Sometimes she thought that was the best part of everything that was to follow; just pushing the ‘send’ button would always bring a smile to her face, and she would sit there, no matter what the other myriad demands on her attention there might be, until his reply came in. Which would nearly always be one simple letter, followed by a period: Y.From that very moment she would begin to relax slightly, and her nervous tension would gradually, throughout the remainder of the workday, evolve into a delicious sense of anticipation. Her focus would become less intense, her demeanor softer and even the way she walked felt different to her – less stilted and more catlike and sensual. If her employees noticed the difference they said nothing, of course. But surely they had become aware of the fact that on certain days she was now the first one to leave instead of the very last as was usual, and that during the days which followed she was altogether much more gracious and pleasant to work with. Anita wondered sometimes if they speculated together about the cause of these sudden shifts in her demeanor. If they only knew , she would think, and sometimes actually giggled to herself, amateur which would have astonished any of the people who worked for her. Most of them, she was sure, would testify in court that teen she never even smiled, much less giggled. And if they thought that giggling was unlikely, Anita couldn’t begin to imagine what they would think if they could see her racing through the evening traffic on those special nights, often with one hand on the wheel and the other inside the pants of her conservative business clothes, cupping and squeezing herself through her panties, her mouth hanging open with excitement. Sometimes she thought that was the best part: the sheer, tingling anticipation of what was about to happen: Slave Night . It had evolved during the previous year as Anita had discovered that sometimes she enjoyed being told what to do during her lovemaking with Don. Don was certainly not dominant by nature – their day-to-day relationship was generally very well balanced in that regard. But he quickly learned to enjoy his role, becoming more and more brusque as he took command of her pleasure. You don't even grow any hair!" I hold it out for Dakota to squirt a small indian amount of lubricant on it, as I don’t want to hurt my submissive. She then looked over at Mistress Sam and said, “This creates a problem for amateur me, however. As Gemma came from me rimming her ass I stood up and told her I wanted to feel what her blow jobs were like. I am delirious at her comment. She will even have the same feelings of humiliation and degradation as before the training. She just yawned and tilted her head to let him kiss her neck., He pretended he hadn’t even seen that, and ignored the gesture. “Well…” I was ready to rebut, but then hesitated. Our tongues dueled as we shared my little sister. “So good,” purred Ava, her voice thick with post-orgasmic bliss. “Oh that,” she said with surprise evident in her voice. Oh! Less than 24 hours ago, I was burning what could have been the most important thing for Nicole to see this year. This wondrous moment of joy as Ava's and Sven's cocks filled my asshole and pussy with their jizz. After my last promotion I began working more closely with the CEO and his wife, the President. We rode the elevator up to the third floor. After numerous calls I head over there and she is still there . Finally after 2hours and 15 minutes she tries telling me that it wasnt that great and that she teen couldnt get him off.