<div class="floatleft">(http://i2.listal.com/image/437775/300full.jpg)</div>"Why did it have to inch along?"<br/><br/>His thumbs appeared fascinated in climbing over each other. The vast and empty office seemed to amplify the silence. And the anticipation. Occasionally it grew too much so he would leap out of the chair and pace. Patience was never his strong suit, lesser still where sex was concerned. Perhaps he should take refuge within his fantasies?<br/><br/>The thought struck him whilst he had been gazing absentmindedly at the city sprawled beneath his feet. A bustling mass of life - people, cars, restaurants, other offices, the meticulously hidden strip club - and he towered over them all. He felt his ego smile, and his lips followed suit. The curve grew as he recognized the Jaguar Coupe that slid into halt outside Mario's. He always did like how the name could be construed as a pizza joint as much as the whorehouse it was. A thickset man stepped out, looking utterly lost and all too nervous.<br/><br/>"I knew you couldn't resist, you old relic," he spoke even as fingers flew over his cell. The bait had been set three days ago at the weekly poker game and here was the high and mighty Mr Salinas ready and willing to forget his precious morals for the sake of three minutes with one of Mario's girls. A reply flew into his phone from Jasmine, "Camera's set. You'll have him eating out of your hands by the hour, Daddy"<br/><br/>He had the CEO of his nearest competition trapped by the balls. How could this day get any better?<br/><br/>Perhaps his phone had heard him. The ding of a new message drew him away from watching the portly idiot hurrying after a tall, leggy brunette. "Salinas, you son of a bitch. How could you ever believe she would ever go for you?<br/><br/>"Jasmine, you delightful little tart. What do you have for me now?"<br/><br/>It wasn't her though. It wasn't his Ellie either.<br/><br/>"Holy fuck, Maggie!"<br/><br/>His knees went weak, something he had noticed when they had first begun dating. Here she was, barely more than eight inches tall and trapped inside a touchscreen, and still she robbed his composure. She would allow nothing save the best to drape her and the lace she had chosen appeared almost royal. Yet they barely kept the secrets of her figure. Michael leered at his wife's butt, so fit and fine. He remembered the awe that had held him when she had taught him that he was an ass man. They had traveled to a seedy, off-the-beaten-path hotel on a whim. She had wanted to roleplay as a slut he'd picked up, and the painstakingly detailed striptease had left no doubt over his preference for that beautiful, firm, plush derriere.<br/><br/>But it had been years since they'd done anything so spontaneous. So much that he was astounded that Maggie sexted. What was he to do? The strain in his pants was yelling at him to ask her to come over. The last remaining shred of common sense bellowed he had his daughter coming over for a goddamn quickie any minute.<br/><br/>But that ass...<br/><br/>"If you dare to walk up to my office dressed like that, you're on"<br/><br/>Michael took another look at the picture, felt his cock jump in delight and promptly pressed send.<br/><br/>