THE LIAR She had been told to dress "like a girl who lies about being raped". Laura didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she could make some guesses. It was going to be humiliating, and she wanted to die inside, but only metaphorically. The picture of the knife remained horrifyingly literal, and Laura knew she definitely wanted to go on living, even if her life was becoming a nightmare. It took Laura a adorable while to select an outfit. She tried on several work outfits that were more risqué than she'd normally wear, but started feeling worried about each of them, that they might be too conservative for her blackmailer. She would only get one chance to get it right and if she failed the best she could hope for was a further humiliating punishment, and at worst, the knife. In the end Laura dressed herself in her shortest skirt - a pleated tartan thing - and no panties. She wore red high heels, and a button-up white business shirt with no bra. She looked like Erica had on the weekend, really, although at Toys least Laura's shirt had buttons. The shirt was reasonably opaque, so you couldn't immediately tell that Laura had no bra on, although she thought if her nipples got hard they would probably poke through the alluring material. She decided to put a spare pair of panties and a bra in her handbag, so that if everything got too hard she'd at least have them available. Finally, she put on make-up, and looked at herself. Pink hair, pink lipstick, bulging cleavage, barely concealed ass - she looked like a whore. She felt sick inside, but she had no doubt this would satisfy her blackmailer. It would do. Erica drove her into work. Her girlfriend was clearly curious about Laura's sluttish attire, but she knew better than to ask about it. Laura sat in the passenger seat, trying to keep her legs tightly closed. She knew there was a camera under the glove compartment focused on her groin, because she had put it there just yesterday. Right now it had a perfect view up her skirt to her shaved cunt, if she parted her legs even a little. Having to think about her pussy the whole drive, if only to conceal it, was distracting, and Laura was embarrassed to feel her twat getting a little aroused by the end of the journey. When they reached work, Erica left her in the carpark and continued on to her own office. It was cold and overcast; Laura shivered as she crossed the bitumen parking lot, and hurried inside the large departmental offices building, heading softcore straight for the HR section and her scheduled meeting with Chelle. The meeting was in a large conference room, dominated by a long, round, mahogany table. Chelle was already masturbating there, sitting in one of the elegant high-backed conference chairs, and so was Alistair, who was clearly terrified and drenched in flop-sweat. In addition, two other men were present, though taking a back seat. One was Laura's union rep, who she couldn't for the life of her recall the name of. The other was John Mackey, Laura's divisional head - Alistair's boss. Everyone looked a bit shocked when they saw Laura come in. After all, she looked like a tramp. Alistair couldn't help casting a lustful eye across her body despite his predicament, and even Mr. Mackey cracked a brief, amused smile at her clothing. She looked at Sophie and said, “You know, Paul is available. She stares lustfully at him and smirks. “Oh, you're married?” I asked, perking up. We masturbating watched the game, my dick never softening, and in the sixth, she turned to me, “Does that ever get soft?” Carmen Elisa Need to Die She threw her leg over me so her pussy hovered right above my head. Now starting scans of both. I popped my cock out the leg of my speedo, got a condom on in record time, quick glob of lube and I had my hands on his hips. “Just relax, I want you to enjoy this.” She did put down a first and last and damage deposit, though from her Vegas funds. “That’d be great! “Have you been using her?” Clint asked. “Well… She’s…” Dad struggled with the words, then looked at me with his trademark serious expression. I hollowed it out when I was a senior in high school.” “Emily?!” Mrs. Johnson’s muted voice screamed from the other side of the glass door, “Oh my god, Emily, are you OK?” After some time to let hybrids get used to the game, softcore we paused so everyone could get a drink, then Toys started the tournament, with Dr. Lawrence marking the brackets. After he is buried all of the way in. he start to thrust in and out with quicking stokes until he is pounding away and blazing speed. Buried! I don't have a lot of expertise and I can't figure out how to go about doing adorable it." She alluring was too eager to please, yet utterly unskilled at doing so. Her body lusted for him.