Chapter 23

The bald-headed man presenting in front of us could have been speaking a complete different language for all I knew.

Nothing he was saying was clear to me . I couldn’t focus on anything besides the feel of Miss Diaz hands on my thighs.

It was a typical workday, and I was seated with Miss Diaz in a meeting room. We were seated in one of the long desk in the room as usual, I had my iPad out in front of me, but aside the date which was automated, the page is empty.

Everyone in the room seemed to be focused on what was being said, oblivious to the sexual torture that was occurring under their noses.

Miss Diaz suddenly leaned back in her seat, giving her better access to my thighs. My skirt had risen up and an ample amount of skin was in full display. She took advantage of this, leaving me struggling to regulate my breathing, with the flash memory of the things we did. She continued tracing pattern all over my thighs.

A different man had come up now, he was wearing round neck shirt