Dawn Meadows

The Emerald Secretary 5

Added 2023-03-21 21:00:02 +0000 UTC

"Miss Keystone... why don't you tell me why you are really here?" Throckmorton queried, while smudging the nylon across the surface of her kneecap. The burn of suspicion was in the air.

Emily tensed, but recovered. She uncrossed her legs, the sound of the nylon, the friction was electric in the air. Shimmying her little behind off the corner of the desk, she reached out and put her well manicured hands on the bespoke suited shoulders of the older man.

Now it was his turn to tense.

She leaned in, her bosom held by the stress of her too small, sleeveless white blouse, heavenly pillows pressing against his chest. And then she leaned her face in toward his, closing her eyes, and pursing her plump red lips.

Throckmorton recovered and placed his hands on her trim waist, familiarizing himself with the achingly perfect fit of her traffic stopping skirt, and the waistband of the pantyhose fitting snugly flat against her smoothly soft tummy.

Emily effortlessly slipped one of her stocking clad feet out of her emerald heels, performed breezily by the silken nylon, and brought her knee up between Throckmorton's legs. Simultaneously she pressed her soft pursed lips against his cheek, planting a tender loving kiss.

She breathily whispered. "Tell me all of your secrets... and these nylons are yours."