She insisted so I sat and turned my computer on. Im here now sitting here and cant think of one damn thing to write about. She is telling m...e to think hard but nothing is comming to me. She is telling me to relax while she is rubbing my neck. That feels nice. My god she is touching my boob playfully and is laughing. "Write aboutthat" she just said as she is doing her little massage. Let me see, I am sitting here getting felt up by some woman that drove me home and I. This man infuriated her at every turn and had since his first day at the Post Office two months ago. He was the bane of her existence, infuriating and intractable. He was impossible to work with, withheld information until he deemed it relevant, and was constantly criticizing her wardrobe, her hairstyle, and her ability as an FBI agent. So, why was she standing here, fighting to remember to breathe with every syllable that he uttered? Why was his voice making things dark and primitive curl low. His cock was so big it hardly fit in my mouth. "So whatchu need to talk to Rufus about?" Quinn asked. I was so in to sucking him off that I didn't hear his question correctly. Then he smacked my head. HARD.?"Aye Bitch! I asked you a muthafuckin' question. Answer me!" He said with anger. In just that second of his authoritative action, I felt dehumanized, almost feeling like a naive c***d. I stopped sucking him and apologized. "I'm sorry Quinn.... I..." I stuttered but he cut me off saying,. I wanted to feel the soft skin of the head of her clitty inside my mouth. I wanted to feel the heat of the blood-engorged member. I wanted to feel full of her. I felt empty without it. I swallowed hard, licking my lips, and croaked, "I want to suck you, Stephanie." What was that?" he said, loudly from across the room while Stephanie continued to tease me, rubbing her clit around my open mouth, like circling a drain."I... I.... I want to suck Stephanie," I said. "Please... I... I want it... I.