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Scoggins looked at Megan, then over at his scheduling manager and asked,
"Randy, what do you think? Do we have the time to do the demolition work on this project?"
Randy Marlow was looking at his tablet and moving some schedules around; he looked up to see Megan squirm again, he thought she was nervous and hurried to give an answer. He noticed that Megan's nipples - typically professionally hidden under her blouse and bra - were actually showing a bit of a dimple on her rose-red colored silk blouse.
He found what he was looking for, cleared his throat to avoid showing that he had been staring at Megan's nipple domes and said,
"I think not only do we have time for the demolition but we can do the condo work and leave the commercial structural work for a general contractor. That would allow us to maximize our profits and not waste our time doing things anyone else can do."
Crawford followed Marlow's logic and his eyes. He also noticed that Megan was a bit aroused and he dismissed it as due to the excitement of expecting herself to become a project manager for the company - where the real money was.
The phone rang again for what had to be the tenth time. She was starting to worry that it was her kids and that something was completely wrong at home. But they knew her phone at the office. If someone was hurt, her secretary would bring the message to her. It continued to ring and her body absorbed the vibrations, guiding them to her clit and letting her spiral upward. Her belly tightened and she felt herself go from fear to that naughty pleasure. She knew it was her sensual hormones kicking in, blinding her to fear and driving her to the heights of naughty pleasure.
"Megan," Crawford interrupted her phone-driven reverie, "Have you talked to Legal about the contract and when they will have it ready for me to review?" But Megan only heard "...review" and now she was scrambling.
His eyes were boring into her: or were they? She noticed that his normal trick of looking at a speaker's mouth was off, he was looking lower. The trick, one typically used by women who do not care to look into a man's eyes, is to look at their lips. You read their words and you are not intimidated by their eyes.
In her first week on the job, she noticed that Mr. Crawford always looked at a strong persons' lips, not their eyes. He did so even when he towered over them and she wondered what it meant. This time his eyes were a bit lower. Why? she asked herself.
"Megan?" Crawford asked again.
Jillian Crawford-Masters, the Executive Legal Counsel, spoke for Megan, "We'll have it ready for you right after this meeting. Karen had us review it." Her eyes moved from Crawford, her younger brother, along his line of sight to Megan.
The phone rang again and this time Megan was squeezing her thighs even harder. She wanted to strangle whoever it was that was calling but she wanted to let the energy of the vibrations push her over the top. She was both mortified and aroused by the thought of having an orgasm in front of all these people.
Her mind was on fire and the damned phone stopped vibrating. She was so close. She ached for the vibrations to start again. She wanted Mr. Crawford to take the deal and to celebrate it by thoroughly fucking her right on this table. She wanted Mr. Scoggins to stuff her mouth full of his cock and cum deliciously down her throat. She needed Randy. Oh, god, how long had she craved to feel Randy's lips on her neck, on her collar bones and on her own lips. She wanted to feel his tongue slip into her mouth and caress hers. She needed Randy to whisper into her lips how much he wanted her and then kiss his way down her neck, her cleavage and down her two-hundred sit-ups-a-day flat belly to her sexy chevron shaped pointer to her deliciously wet cunt. There, she said it, for the first time, she had a cee, u, en, tee, cunt - what a beautiful word, for Randy to shove his tongue into.
The phone vibrated again and she made