The Secret Agent
Claire was feeling horny.
The problem was that she had got used to coming regularly, under the oral ministrations of her co-worker in the RSPHNFFP charity shop, the talented Mr. Sharma. Of course the fact that she was allowing him to go down on her had nothing to do with s*x per se.
It was just that she was allowing him to practice his arcane and unfathomable religion which insisted on his maximising the pleasure and minimising the pain of humanity. Claire, as a kindness, had allowed Mr. Sharma to lick her p***y; unfortunately she found herself coming many times and, in order to restore Mr. Sharma's karma or cosmic balance, she'd had to suck him off in turn.
The problem was that she had grown accustomed to his cultured and skilful tongue.
And now, he had disappeared.
