Rodriguez. She had undertaken some real self-starter level motivation to grow adept at this portion of the proceedings – she had to, as it took some coordination to pull off this maneuver. Sex It didn’t matter when, and it didn’t matter where. Another was the thought of, one day, informing Felicia’s well-established laundry list of corporate detractors, enemies, and conspirators that she had sucked down mugfulls of cum on the daily. She couldn’t afford to so much as get near the rim of the cup; every sticky rope of her spunk had to ‘kerplunk’ right into the steaming hot vat of caffeine – among other things. “I’ve just got to fix that extra ‘turbo shot’ that you like in it, Mrs. Third, the transcendent moment of glory that was her boss’ compliment to her the day she first delivered the bean juice cocktail. In front, however, was something entirely different. “I remember hearing that ten, twenty years ago, those chauvinist ad men who fucked every desk jockey with a pussy from here to Long Island were the ones who put this skanky dress code in place,” Gretchen recalled hearing from her first cubicle mate during the first day of her on-the-job orientation.
