“Bastard,” I thought to myself as a contraction rippled through the walls of my vagina and his lips encountered one of my nipples. “He is really pushing the boundaries now. If he doesn’t touch me now, I am going to physically force him to,” I thought. With his lips firmly sucking my one nipple into his mouth and his tongue teasing the tip, I felt his other hand easing its way down toward my streaming pussy. “Yes,” I thought. “At last I am going to receive some much needed attention where I need it most,” and I parted my thighs even wider to entice him to touch me. Instead, his fingers stroked the sides of my pussy lips, coming teasingly close to my swollen clitoris and causing me to, once again, raise my hips to force his hand. But he simply continued to tease around the fringes of my lust, whilst sucking and gently biting my hardened nipples and cupping and squeezing my breasts. At one stage he lifted his head long enough to kiss me deeply, our tongues swirling around one. Like Korea, the ad agency was divided into two conflicting parts, the reception desk marking the cold war zone between them. On one side was the ‘suit’ territory, where the account executives, accountants and others of that ilk lived. Very quiet and dignified, a lot of individual offices and several conference rooms, forums for the frequent discussions held with the many VIP visitors. Indeed, Brian had already decided that the only real difference between advertising management and prostitution was that the ad industry seemed to need a lot more meetings to make things happen. But the heart and soul of the agency was on his side, where the ‘creatives’ did their thing. As he walked through it seeking Georgina, Brian felt the adrenalin tingling within him as it always did. Each of the open plan corridors bustled with activity, the ringing of telephones, the rise and fall of conversation as busy groups coalesced briefly to exchange sheets of paper, photographs, gossip and wails of anger.
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