Lisa only giggled and continued to slurp and suck hotly at the swollen shaft of Peters' big cock. It was now several days later, and Lisa had to admit that there was some sense to her boss pleas.

She had demanded to be fucked four times daily since their first encounter.

Always in the storeroom. Lisa raised her head and looked around her, studying the shadowed boxes, the dim sixty-watt bulb in the ceiling and the faded plaster walls. Then she returned her attention to the bloated stick of Peters' cock. His dick looked like it had been in a war. The skin of the head and shaft was rubbed raw from the constant friction of her mouth and pouting pussy, and his balls were all shriveled up beneath his throbbing tool, obviously milked dry of cum. Peters was right, Lisa had to admit. She was practically ruining him with her constant need for fucking.

But she couldn't help it. Lisa whimpered hungrily and took another few inches of Peters' swelling rod into the grip of her lips, groaning throatily as she felt the spongy cum-smeared head rest against, the back of her throat.

"Please, Lisa, I'm begging you," Peters persisted. "Don't make it stiff again. I need a rest. We can fuck some other time."