He smiled, hugely, violently. He grabbed her and flipped her over, an exceedingly easy task due to her miniscule weight. She struggled weakly, flailin... uselessly against his chest, her fingers glancing off the butcher's smock he wore over black a pair of black jeans. He straddled her stomach, facing away from her, forcing her to stare against his back unknowing of what he was doing. He began to loosen the clamp, running his hand against her ill-used pussy. She slid one finger, two, begain. He looked around towards the wall between hiscubicle and Robin's. He could just hear her talking on her phone,probably to her husband. He felt safe enough. He opened up thespreadsheet where he kept his progress for the bet.He found the row for today's date and saw that there was still anothertwenty-four days to go. Today it didn't feel like that number wasdropping very fast at all. He went up to yesterday's date to fill inhow long he had managed to hold back. He paused to think. What. More

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