I don’t know. When I got to my room I couldn't resist opening my side of the adjoining door and pressing my ear against her door. I couldn't really...hear anything so I threw myself on the bed, covered my face with a pillow and reveled in the intensity of what I was feeling. My fingers stole some wetness from down below and used it to lube my clit, but I was craving much more than my own touch. At once I smelled her perfume and felt her hand gently pressing the pillow against my face: "Don't. In this town, only the secretaries, the lazy ones,wear pink or red. So: a brown the color of my too-sweet coffee in themorning. A skirt, maybe not so narrow that a quick trip down thecorridor for a file that you forgot would set his mind to wander whereyou were not ready for it to go. Just right to tug crisply over kneesin case the office couch is just a shade too low, or there's a minuteafter swapping business cards you need to fill. A high-necked, paleblouse, tiny fringe of lace along the. More

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