With a devilish grin, she hops down and pulls her skirt off. Then she wiggles out of her soaked panties.
“God… damn…” I run my hand over her bare ass and smack it, loving how it jiggles. When she bends over the desk, I don’t need any more encouragement.
But I do wish I could take a shower first. I’m gross.
“Put your hands on me,” she says over her shoulder.
“I’m dirty.”
“I like that about you.”
Fuuuuck me. One swipe of my hand on her bare ass leaves a little smudge mark.
“I’m sweaty.”
“I know.” She wiggles her ass at me.
Unzipping my jeans, and pulling them down is a relief. Cool air hits my cock and balls and I jab her between the cheeks with my blunt head. “You want it so bad, put it in yourself.”
Taylor spreads her legs a little wider, rises onto her tiptoes, and grabs my length from between her legs. Then she guides me to her soaked pussy and freezes. “Shit!”
“What?”
“Someone’s here!”
We scramble like two teenagers to fix ourselves and I rush over to unlock the door just as I hear bootsteps crunch on the gravel outside. Taylor sits in the chair and gathers all the papers that fell on the floor while I pour another cup of coffee.
The door swings wide open.
“Hi, Honey,” Russel says. “Oh, hey Conner.”
All I can think is “wipe the pussy off your face,” which I do and then dump way too much creamer in my cup because I am no good at this sneaky shit. I’ve never had to be before.
“What are you doing here, Dad?”
“I’m glad I caught you both, it’ll be easier this way, I think.”
He doesn’t look good, and that makes me worried. “Are you feeling okay, Russ?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Taylor gets up so he can have his chair behind the desk, but he waves her off and tells her to stay there, then drops into a folding chair saved for employees getting reprimanded. “I uhhhh… need to talk to Conner about something, but I think you should hear it too.”
Taylor and I both glance at each other.
Abandoning my coffee at the station in the corner, I lean against the desk and cross my arms, worried as hell. I have no clue what he’s about to say but I don’t like how it’s making me feel.
“A smart man knows…” Russel pauses and shakes his head. “Wait. No.” He clears his throat. “A good man… shit.”
“Russ.”
“Let me say this, damnit.”
Ishut the fuck up, so I don’t get fired.
“A smart man knows when to stay and when to walk away.” Russel’s staring at me as he says this. “Are you a smart man, Conner?”
Not really. No. Probably not.
