Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357
My feet shuffle along the carpet as I walk up and down the hallway at a glacial pace. Each time I pass his home office, my head tilts to peer inside. He’s typing away, talking into his headset. Another never-ending meeting he can’t get out of.
My sigh must have been more audible than I intended because his head snaps in my direction. Our gazes meet, and I feel guilty for interrupting him. He lifts the mic to mute the call and motions for me to come in. “Just be quiet, okay, baby?” Feeling rewarded for my patience, I skip into his office and climb onto his lap. Just inhaling his cologne as I snuggle into his chest ramps up the horny need that drove me to pace the hallway to begin with.
