Then Mrs Finance began to make an even weirder sound, sort of filled with delicious terror and excitement, like when you get to the top of a seriously...bad ass rollercoaster. Valerie used Mrs F’s vaginal muscles like a piano playing Rachmaninov. She was screaming in ecstasy, he was moaning as he was being milked dry till his balls were tiny and dry as sesame seeds, and the most incredible feeling he’d ever had was squeezing up and down his cock—which he still couldn’t pull out, though he’d quit. After some common pleasantries, the youth directed her towards the way to the office of the Managing Director. Slowly, the HR person knocked on the door and a voice came from inside, asking them to come in.The room was spacious, with a set of three-seater sofa on the right, and a couch chair on the left. In the background, there was a large painting of some unknown artist. A few paces in front of the painting, sat a middle aged man, probably in his mid-forties, in front of a big table. Ashraf. More

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