.you know, SO last decade....but something new.....like, perhaps, DAN’S DICK?-- Weeelll, that was another story!”. She simply couldn’t get the fantasy of another man’s dangling member out of her mind. In fact, she purposely worked towards letting herself materialize it in her thoughts. The visualization caused her aching labia to throb in the shower’s steamy mist. She closed her eyes. Just the thought of reaching back to run her hand along the engorged length of his excited shaft made her whole body go limp! Reaching back, she grabbed the hairbrush she had inadvertently brought into the enclosure. Leaning forward, she rested her shoulder on the glass, simultaneously reaching down for a squirt of conditioner, with which she coated the handle. Her body tensed as her arm swept between her legs, stretching back and positioning the end of the brush against the tightness of her virgin sphincter. “What the fuck?” she queried to herself, as if to question what she was clearly preparing to do.. Miranda walked over to her desk, her heels thumping with surprising volume on the carpeted floor.She began to undo her shirt, when Jason caught her hand.“No thank you, I’ll do that,” he said. Miranda felt her face flush but said nothing. She hated Jason. Hated him. Hated his attitude, his office, his cologne, his stupid haircut. She hated how he played with her because he was her boss and he knew he could.But she stifled that hate, because it was her duty. Mainly.Also because she hated a lot of men who fucked her good.Miranda was guided down with a hand on her back. She bent over, resting on her elbows on the cool, dark wood surface of his executive desk.Jason moved to stand directly behind her. She could feel the vague hardness of him press against her, through both layers of clothes, as he reached around her hips to undo her skirt. First the button, then the zipper—pulled down with agonizing slowness.“Stick your butt out more,” Jason commanded. Miranda did so, jutting her butt.
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