e thinking.

Finally, I feel you tensing up, and on the last in-stroke you keep your

coside me, grinding it into my guts. You hunch down lower until your

face is inches away from mine, my khis time pressed firmly down onto

the table effectively folding my body in two. You let out a long low growl

as your cock begins to pulse, owice. Ohird pulse your rich

mancum spurts into my depths, a thick stro I actually feel

spraying my insides, followed by another, and another. You unload eight or

nine spurts inside me, fillih the essence of your manhood, adding

to the gallons you have already deposited over the last few months. As you

pump ye load into my sweaty, fevered little boy body, my eyes glaze

over and I cum again, shooting my own semen hard onto my chest and belly.

As my young balls surreheir last few squirts of cum, you stare deeply

into my eyes and open your mouth. I see your throat moving and I open

my own mouth wide, knowing what is ing. I wait demurely, teary-eyed and

panting, as a big glob of spit appear in your mouth and plops its way down

into mine. I savour the thick liquid on my toasting the totality of

your hold over me, the utterness with which I belong to you, just the way

you say I must. Then I swallow it, my eyes never leaving yours, feeling

more worthless than I've ever been.

Satiated, you pull your softening mans and pack it bato your

pants. "Don't up," you tell me before you leave. "You put your

clothes ba now. But don't fet to stuff the beads ba!"

I get up gingerly from the table, careful not to let your cum leak out, and

make my way slowly bay desk, pig up my pants and shirt along the

way. I'm now much more aware of my nakedness and I quickly shove the anal

beads bato my asst, noting how some globs of cum are squeezed out

around the balls anyway. I pull on my trousers and button my shirt ba.

The sweat on my body and the streaks of y chest and belly

immediately make my shirt stiy skin. I feel sticky and dirty. As I

look down at my humiliating state in despair, I see you looking over at

me with a smirk on your face.

Just as I finish tug my shirt in and bug up my belt, the first of

our colleagues return from lunch. I sit doretend that I have been

w all the while. But the feeling of cum seeping out of my boypussy

onto my pants makes me feel so degraded and used, and the smell of semen

wafting from my cubicle and my body seems to be overp. Surely some

of my co-workers would notice? Surely they have begun to suspect, somewhere

in the back of their minds, the truth about how you use this cute little

asian boyslut when they aren't looking..?

"e over here," the private message from you flashes on my s.

Demurely, I get up from my seat and make my way to your cubicle. It is