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I sat down on the toilet and picked up one of the dildos.It was a black one, long, thick and veiny. I told her that I could not remember ever having used it. Ana looked at me and she giggled, saying she had always used it with her sensual girlfriend Laura, since this huge thing reminded both of them like it was a real monster black cock, belonging to a well hung black man...Ana smiled and laughed loud, saying she loved this thing and she used it when I was at home and she could not meet her endowed Black Master…I picked up a butt plug, telling her that it should go.Anita nodded, as she thought it was too small…I asked for one piece in particular: a metallic one, with a pink jewel in the other end. My wife laughed again, telling me that it was now fully buried up her tight asshole.I laughed too; telling her that she was a bitch…But Ana answered she was not a bitch; she was feeling just a bit nostalgic. But suddenly, she put all the pieces back into the basket.She got serious, saying. On those rare days when she felt well above average on the attractiveness scale, Jacquí would arrive at the office in a sleek and stylish new designer suit and steal what little attention Denise hoped to garner. The leggy blonde epitomized sexy and had enough smarts not to need good looks to succeed in the business world. To add insult to injury, she had the nerve to be one of the nicest people Denise had ever met. No one, not even Mother Teresa, deserved to be that close to perfection. Jacquí strolled past her office carrying her typical bagel and coffee. She lifted the foam cup in a g’morning salutation and gave a megawatt smile that might as well have been nails on a chalkboard for its impact on Denise’s mood. Even at eight forty-five on a Monday, the woman looked like a taller version of Heather Locklear in a power suit. Prettier, too, with all the beauty and none of the harder edges. The glass walls allowed Denise to follow her progress down the hall. Denise hated the fact that.
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