Exhausted, I lie, tied to my husband’s desk, my arms tied over my head, my legs pulled back and splayed widely, tied off somewhere, presenting my holes for easy access.
What is this, twelve, fifteen? I wonder to myself. Many cocks ago, I ceased trying to understand why my husband suggested we expand our sexual play; I began to relax and really enjoy the train of his male employees that had brought me so many gut-wrenching orgasms.
My mouth is full of my panties, duct tape holding them in place, and a blindfold over my eyes.
I must have a pint of cum inside my well-used pussy or running out of over my burning asshole.
“Now I don’t have to wonder which of my employees you’ve been fucking. You’ve taken every cock,” my husband growls in my ear, removing my gag.
Oh my god, but it was Carole, you fucking fool! I scream in my head.
“My God, Henry, this was amazing, but I have to tell you, I’ve been fucking your secretary, Carole, not any of your male employees,” I moan.
“Oh, I am well aware. That is the next game we play, my little slut,” Henry smiled.
