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“Bishop Thomas, please,” I request. The receptionist presses the black button on her switchboard.

“Mr. Thomas? You have a visitor.”

“Send her on back,” I hear him say through the speakerphone.

“You may go back, Ms…” The receptionist stumbles to learn my last name.

“Winslow, Ms. Connie Winslow,” I say proudly.

“Ms. Winslow,” the receptionist repeats to Bishop.

“Yes, I know. Send her back, please.”

“Turn right at the end of the hall, go halfway down. Mr. Thomas’ office is on the left-hand side.”

“Thank you,” I reply and begin switching my derriere down the hall.

I check out the digs of the fifteenth floor as I walk down the long corridor, making the most out of my first visit.

“Nice office,” I announce, standing in Bishop’s doorway.

“Come in, Connie, and make yourself comfortable.”

I walk in confident and sexy. Instead of sitting, I walk to the large glass window behind his desk and enjoy the skyline of downtown Atlanta.

“Your view is lovely,” I comment.

“It’s not as lovely as the view I see from here.” Damn, his baritone voice gets me every time. I turn in his direction feeling horny as hell. He stands facing me in front of his closed office door with his ten inches exposed, saluting me. He steps out of his trousers, walks to his desk, and sits in his plush, black leather chair. “Come here,” he suggests, extending his hand to me. I touch the palm of his hand and allow him to lead me to his awaiting penis. I hear the DJ on V-103 announce the song “Ordinary People.” Then the voice of John Legend serenades us from Bishop’s sleek stereo. I slowly crouch down on my knees between Bishop’s muscular Hershey thighs, and begin my deep-throat action. He grabs onto the arm of the chair and watches me take him whole.

“Damn, Connie. Nobody handles me like this.”

I suck harder and draw his big cock deeper into my throat. I go up and down on it, sending Bishop deeper into his chair with a tightening grip. He arches, he concaves, he arches again and concaves again. I don’t want to engulf his sac or kiss his asshole today. All I want is the ten-inch pipe. I release his huge penis and stroke it up and down with one hand, spreading my saliva while I unfasten my blouse and bra with my other hand. I place his dick in between my excited 36DDs, squeeze my breasts tightly around his dick, and suck the very tip of his penis. His length comes in handy to do this. He loves it. I release his dick, grab it tightly with my hands, and slap my face all around with it. He gets my drift. I deep-throat him again and stroke around his asshole with my index finger. He’s too excited and I know this moment of lustful indulgence is ending soon. I feel the blood rush to his penis and then out of nowhere, his damn phone rings. He slaps the intercom button.

“What is it, Barbara?” he yells at the receptionist terribly irritated. I don’t stop. Through the speaker I hear, “I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas, but your wife is on line two.”

He hangs up with the receptionist and looks at me stroking and gobbling his dick while his wife waits on hold.

“Don’t stop, Connie,” he insists.

“Not to worry,” I reply with a devilish grin and continue my handiwork.

“Hello.” All I hear him say is, “Hey, yeah, huh, uh, okay, see you then.” He abruptly hangs up and I have his full attention again.

I swirl my tongue all over his groin, hair, dick, balls and all. I take him back into my throat, down to the base of his penis and suck intensely. He throws his head into the back of his seat, grabs me by my hair, and pumps my mouth forcefully, filling my jaws with his monstrous dick. After a number of hard thrusts, he pulls me off of his lead pipe and squirts my face with his gooey cum.

“Mmmmmm! Mmmmmm!” he moans and is speechless. I squint my eyes as his warm semen covers my mouth, nose, and forehead. Ahhhhh, yes, my pearly shower! The drought ends and the rainy season returns; I love it. I’m so hot and turned on. I rub his bodily moisturizer on my face, neck, and tits. When he catches his breath, he smiles at me and says, “So you like my anointment, huh?”

I say nothing as I lick the remaining cum off the palm of my hand. He has sweet cum which makes the rainy season even more delightful. I whisper in his ear with my large breasts resting on his chest. “Is this how you got our nickname?”

He chuckles and admits, “Actually, yes. One day after football practice back at Morehouse, some odd years ago, the fellas and I were sharing date stories in the locker room. After telling mine, they nicknamed me Bishop and it stuck.”

“Does your wifey know you’re a naughty boy who likes to anoint women in this manner? Did you anoint her?” I ask, licking him lightly on his earlobe.

“What do you think?”

“Don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Why do you care?” asks Bishop while nibbling at my breasts and neck.

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