He looks between my legs licks his lips; he then looks at the photograph of his family on his desk. Guilt and lust fill his eyes. “I’m sorry what ...id you say your name was?” he clears his throat again. “Actually I didn’t tell you. My name is Ziomara may I know your first name?” I bit my lower lip and moved forward on my chair. My pussy was now completely wet, and was begging to be stuffed. “Actually I’m afraid we can’t continue with this conversation. I’ll make another appointment to meet with. That kind of thing is important to me. It speaks to me of trust and love and deep devotion. She claimed she couldn’t give that to me because it didn’t speak to her in the same way it did to me. Fine. I could respect that if it were true. But since that time she pushed my hand away, her claim that she couldn’t give that kind of love to me was starting to seem more like she wouldn’t give it. It felt like a choice she made, maybe not consciously, but a choice nonetheless. She was denying me. But. More

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