Long Toe Sally - Poor Boss 2nd half

Long Toe Sally - Poor Boss 2nd half

When I walk into Long Toe Sally's office, I'm expecting to find her waiting with her computer screen facing me, furrowed brows and a demanding scowl. Instead, I see a petite woman with her big, smooth feet planted on her desk, her heels clapping against the wood in a rhythm that matches the deep sigh escaping from her lips. The sound she makes is so soothing to my senses that it takes me a moment to even process what I'm witnessing.

But when I look closer, I realize that she's not just any woman - she's the boss, Long Toe Sally herself. She looks down at me with those puppy dog eyes of hers, pleading for mercy from her subordinate, the one she's always been so hard on. But there's something different about her today - something inside me can't help but find her vulnerability irresistibly arousing.

As I approach her, I can't help but notice the way her plump breasts bounce with each movement, the curve of her hips, and the long, elegant lines of her legs. They disappear into the space between her arched toes – those voluptuous Amazonian feet that have held such power over me for so long. To my surprise, I find myself in awe of her beauty, even as she begs me pathetically to let her down from atop the desk.

Without any hesitation, I step forward and wrap my hands around one of her sizeable ankles, pulling her down towards me until our faces are level. She gasps softly, realizing what I'm about to do. This is my chance to finally make her understand how it feels to be under my control, to live out the giantess fetish I've always harbored deep within me.

"Please, I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice filled with fear and confusion. "I didn't mean it, I was just trying to do my job." But the apologetic words don't phase me – all I can see is those big, beautiful feet dangling in front of me, waiting to be worshipped. And so I lean forward and press my lips against the sole of her foot, tasting the sweat that accumulates between her toes.

Without another word, I lift her off the desk and hold her upside down, her gigantic breasts swaying precariously close to my face. Her eyes widen in horror as she realizes what's happening, but there's nothing she can do about it now. She belongs to me, and I'm going to use her however I please.

I force my tongue between those plump lips, tasting the desperation and fear mixed with her natural sweetness. Her once soft, whispered pleas have now turned into hoarse, desperate moans as I continue to take control of the situation. And when I'm done with her lips, I move down to explore the rest of her body – those huge tits, ripe for the plucking, their heavy weight causing her to sway back and forth like a pendulum.

Next, I position her over my face, grinning as I feel the warmth of her body enveloping me. It's strange how the tables have turned – how this woman, once so powerful and intimidating, is now reduced to a mere plaything for my pleasure. And as I take in her succulent scent, mixed with the sweat and fear from our encounter, I can't help but revel in the perverse satisfaction of it all.

I use her body to satisfy my every whim – rubbing my cock against her huge ass, sliding it into her tight pussy, even pushing it into her unwilling mouth. And as I watch her struggles, as I feel the desperation in her movements, I can't help but be turned on even more. This is what I've always wanted – to be the one in complete control, to have my every fetish fulfilled by the scantily-clad woman dangling helplessly before me.

After hours of using her for my pleasure, I finally decide to give her the relief she so desperately craves. With a snap of my fingers, she's released from my grasp, landing in a heap on the floor. "Get out of my office, you pervert," she spits, her voice shaking with rage and humiliation. But despite her words, I can see the faint traces of pleasure lingering in her eyes – a testament to the power I still hold over her.

As I walk away, whistling nonchalantly, I can't help but feel a twinge of remorse. But then I remember the intoxicating feeling of having her under my control, and it's enough to push those fleeting moments of empathy aside. For now, at least. The thought of what I'll do with her next time I see her lights up my entire being – a reminder that this is just the beginning of our twisted affair.