My wife tapped her foot impatiently, and I took this as a sign to put on the top. The top was barely more concealing than the bottom, consisting this time of two triangles of white gauzy material, each with a string that were meant to be tied above my head and two others to be tied behind my back. When I was done, I felt like a Christmas present, what with all the bows and loose pieces of bikini string hanging from my hips, neck and back. "Oh don't you look good, almost like the perfect little whore, except for that pathetic excuses for a penis poking out where it shouldn't.

We'll have to do something about that." My wife said reaching for my cock. I was ecstatic. My wife was just playing a game with me, I thought. How sweet she was to indulge my fantasies like this.

How wrong I was.

My wife grabbed my cock through the fabric of the bikini bottom and brutally wrenched it downward between my legs. The pain and the shock of her action was enough to erase any arousal I had been experiencing, and I felt my erection shrivel. "You will keep this pathetic thing hidden from sight, between the cheeks of your little faggot ass." she said.

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We both then collapsed on the floor, I took her in my arms and held her close, kissing her forehead.
She smiled up at me and said I thought you hadn’t noticed me I have been fantasising about that since I started working here.
I was shocked at Cynthia’s admission but deeply flattered to be the subject of her fantasies.
I noticed you the day you came for your interview, I knew that you were going to brighten up this office no end.
With that we both dozed off and woke about an hour later to the sound of a vacuum cleaner in the office next door.
We quickly fumbled around and got dressed, and left the room then I remembered I still hadn’t fixed the photocopier.
I walked out feeling like the cat that had got the cream and asked Cynthia if she was feeling hungry.

She said yes she was starving, so we left the cleaner too it hoping she would not notice any wet patches on the floor!

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