And yet, if a dog had happened to come strolling into that empty office right then, she wouldn't have sent him away.

Jenny suddenly realized that she was cupping her cunt in her hand and that her crotch was creamy. She wasn't sure if she had come or not. She had been so fascinated by what she was observing in the car below, that her pussy might well have melted without her knowing it. But whether she had already come or not was a moot point.

She wanted to come again.

She lifted her dress above her waist and pushed her soaking panties down around her knees. She pushed her trim belly out against the windowsill. Her cunt steamed in the cool air. She began to run her hands up the smooth flesh of her inner thighs, then started working on her pussy with both hands. She fingered her tingling clit with one hand while she pushed three fingers of the other up her cunt.

She was thinking about dog cock.

Karl Klocek was a window cleaner, and he worked on Saturday mornings. Karl was a lean man with a bushy moustache, and, at the moment, he had a big hard-on. His girlfriend had got drunk the night before and, sick with a hangover, had not been in the mood for fucking that morning, so Karl had gone to his labors unfucked and unsatisfied.

He was cleaning the windows of the office building in which Jenny Baker was presently and pleasantly rubbing her cunt to a lather.

At the moment, he was working on the window directly below where Jenny stood, but she had not seen him because of the angle and the protruding window ledge, nor had he seen her for the same reasons. He was having a hard time doing his work because his prick kept bumping against the glass. He wished he had some pussy.

When he heard the soft sounds of a girl panting with passion, he figured it was just wishful thinking on his part. He also heard the moist squishing of a juicy cunt. But he knew it had to be all in his mind. How in hell could a guy hear a squishing cunt when he was ten stories up the outside of an office building? He figured he was cunt crazy.