Police boss enjoying female junior officer hidden cam

“But he’s still a fucking asshole!” I huffed at the cat, and took her bored glare as a resounding agreement. I folded my arms, and pouted on the bed, glaring at my sexy sushi outfit. Funny-sexy was hard to pull off, but damnit, I did it this year. I fucking nailed it. The headpiece was a California Roll I’d made of foam and tissue paper, the brazier was a salmon color that evoked sashimi with a ‘rice’ frill at the top, and the skirt was a black garment meant to evoke maki, with a little embroidery on the crotch that said, ‘something smells fishy.’ It would’ve been glorious, but alas, it would never see the light of day. “Well you know what, Cleo?” I prompted the cat, who glared up at me for interrupting her crotch-licking session, “I’m gonna wear it anyway. You and I will just have our own Halloween party! Yeah! Just you and me… just me and the cat… and I’m wearing a fucking sushi outfit that advertises my smelly pussy.” I sighed, and drooped my shoulders, “There’s a cat joke in there somewhere, Cleo, if you want to pick the low hanging fruit.” I mumbled. Cleo answered by licking her crotch. I stripped to my birthday suit, grabbed my costume, and grumbled to myself as I began putting it on. I scowled when the brazier hung loosely from my chest. My ass was to die for, I knew, but my breasts left something to be desired. They were nice; B-cups and beautifully shaped, but I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been cheated. Mom had a chest that could act as a life raft in case of emergency. “First-world problems, Em.” I told my reflection, then grabbed my tits, pushed them together, and tightened the corset. There; magic. Nobody knows the better until the outfit comes off, and by then, there’s no turning back. You’re mine, hypothetical male escapade, MINE! Mwhuahahahaha! I hoisted the skirt up my ass, pulled the stockings after, and stepped into the high-heels that forced my ample backside to bulge from atop my thighs. I took out my ‘I-suck-dick’ indian red lipstick, and applied it liberally and slowly to my parted lips. “Would you fuck me?” I asked the mirror in my best Buffalo Bill impression, “I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me hard.” I felt good. I Hidden Cams spun on my heel, and strutted toward the cat, who ironically did not appreciate my catwalk. Well, fuck her. I was sexy sushi, and sexy sushi don’t need no cat. I worked my shoulders as I marched lasciviously down the hallway, cops popping each hip, pretending I was parting the sea of people at a party, and all eyes were on me. “That’s right, bitches.” I grinned at a poster of Lebron James, “Emily Huston just walked in, and all your thirsty boyfriends wanna get a drink of this pussaaaaAAAAAAAH!” And fate punished me for my hypothetical arrogance by making me forget there were stairs in front of me. I hit each step with a punctuation of breath, tumbling head-over-heels until I was sprawled in the kitchen, my skirt draped over my head, my beautiful California Roll headdress sacrificed to provide cushion for my stupid fucking brain. I lay there for a moment, exposed and in pain, wondering if dying was preferable to getting up from this. A fervent knock on the kitchen door confirmed that yes, dying was indeed the better option. “Emily?!” Mrs. Johnson’s muted voice screamed from the other side of the glass door, “Oh my god, Emily, are you OK?” You can kill me now, God. I thought grimly. REBECCA I knew I still had it. I was two years shy of forty, and had lived a life of drugs, unprotected sex, and worst of all, rampant tanning, but damn it, I still had it. My skin had hardly aged at all, my hair was still its luxuriant strawberry-blonde, and only the faintest stretchmarks marred my ample bust. I had an ass you could balance a wine bottle on, and I currently had it stuffed into the tightest pair of Levi’s money could buy. Genetics had been kind to me, but that wasn’t how I knew I still had the all-important “it.” No, my retention of “it” was confirmed by the eyes of the junior varsity football team, which seemed to be magnetized to my heart-shaped asset. “Nothing like good genes, and good jeans.” Lucy chuckled next to me, her lips pursed around a cigarette. The two of us were leaning on a fence at the park, looking at the young bucks like we were still in high school. You ready?” Before she wore jeans and comfortable clothes, but when Hidden Cams she came back it was short dresses and skirts and always very high heels. Ravi instantly knew what she meant by it. Fat and stretched and achy, it was back in full, well done and ready. “What is this?” she asked nervously from the floor. She rubs her aching pussy on his hardening cock. “I heard you broke up with Kelly, did you?” My mother's cunt belonged to me. I groaned, taking such delight in using her. Somehow he even through the agony of his groin he understood the danger and indian I felt his fingers gripping after my legs. Nor did it stop at her cervix, either. "Thank you beloved," Ronja said. Satish held her still. Although, it seemed nearly pointless for Rose to guide cops or teach her mom. His eyes moved quickly to hers and he began to shade.