Indian Girl

“You need to hurry and get ready so we aren’t late,” she urged.I took off my work clothes and changed. My mind was still pre-occupied with the tight little pussy sitting down in my living room when it suddenly hit me, Porsche’s car was not in the driveway.“I didn’t see Porsche’s car in the driveway?” I asked questioningly. “No, you didn’t. Her car is in the shop so we will have to run her home later,” she said then peeked her head out of the bathroom and said, “So, one of us will have to be light on the drinks tonight.”I was trying not to rush the evening but I was anxious to get home. I made sure to supply my wife with extra drinks so I would be the one taking Porsche home that evening.When we returned home, my wife did the usual questions to Porsche and paid her for her time and informed her I’d be running her home because she had one too many that evening.My cock was already hard, standing there thinking about what I was about to do to her before I dropped her off at home.As I. A. operative would be likely to find it. My wife was neither. I guess that I was tucking the number into my wallet when Mitch “the Bitch” saw me.“I need to talk to you in the manager’s office immediately.” His pissy demeanor left me no choice to follow him into the back room. He was on his walkie-talkie calling Jerry, the assistant manager over my area to come back to the office, so we could have a “meeting.”We waited outside the office for ten minutes on Jerry, since “the Bitch” wasn’t important enough to have keys to the office. We all three got in the office, and Jerry invited us to have a seat, and sat down himself.“What seems to be the problem, Mitch?” Jerry had a vague expression on his face, which seemed to mean that he only nominally tolerated Mitch’s bullshit, and that he felt a little bit sorry that I was stuck in his sights at the moment.“The problem is Robert’s continuing pattern of fraternization with women while on the clock; it really seems to be getting out of hand. I.
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