I looked down on the wetness all over my paperwork and smiled big. She came back by and got her papers and left.She intercom-med me later and asked if...I liked getting her papers wet. I said of course. We did it again several times. Once while all her office mates were walking by outside going to lunch and her laying face down tits out on my desk with me pounding that lovely ass from behind. At our new offices I found my self back near the record storage room in a 6' high cubicle. I had some. And even without make up, which she rarely wore, she was the definition of the classically beautiful woman. I, on the other hand, was much more like my father. More conservative, a little more serious. They had met just after mom finished college. He was 10 years older, a Vietnam vet and was a lawyer at the firm my mom had just gotten a job at. I never knew him well because he died of cancer when I was 8, but from what people have told me, they had a yin and yang thing going. They were so. More

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