"Are you alright? Here, let me help you."She lent on my arm and raised herself rather unsteadily to her feet."Thank you! I must apologise. It was thes... heels. I'm still not used tothem." No, it was all my fault. Sorry, I shouldn't have bumped into you."I stooped to retrieve her bag. It was leather, with a gold chain shoulderstrap. The heels were spikes on leather boots that came to just above herknees. Her tartan skirt below a black long-sleeved jumper would have said'private girls school' - if. There was a jump in the film to the cellar, the lady now stripping for the camera, and donning cuffs, leather, and a wide belt, buckled into place by her husband, who then kissed her and passed her to father like a slave of old, who in turn lead her, willingly, if a little nervously, to the lift, attached the cuffs, then lifted her to her toe-tips. The board re-appeared, in the hands of mother the chalked script saying 40 lashes. Something was said into the woman`s ear, but with no sound it was. [several lines of obviously coded message followed]She'd been on this job for nearly three and a half years, and had never gotten a 'Flash Flash Red Tomato' email. It was an emergency message from the White House. She picked up her phone and called Marty Myrowitz, her head computer geek. After calling him to her office, she called Thomas Fitzhugh, her old boss at the FBI.Yes, he could confirm that he'd received an urgent message, coded from the White House, containing a 128 character key, and. .mmmm, suck it, suck it...this is how I always want it." Always? This is a one-off, I thought to myself, my lips tightly wrapped around his erection. His cock was very stiff and when he started groaning and thrusting harder, I knew I was almost done, that I was about to taste some semen. When it came, hot and thick, his cum filled my mouth, his hand keeping my face pressed into his crotch until his cock stopped pulsing and began to soften. I let his warm cum drool from my mouth and as I.
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