Another message pops up.‘I'm coming over, I can see you uncontrollably wriggling around and can almost see the cogs turning in your head... stop min... fucking me,' Michael says playfully. Oh shit, is all I can think. I can feel my cheeks getting redder and redder and my pussy getting so moist. If he sits down next to me, I will have to excuse myself to the bathroom, I think. ‘Hey James, fancy running into you here. I thought you'd be working.' I hear Michael's husky voice say before I’ve even. However in the middle of January on a cold wet Tuesday night it looked like any other London street, bleak, with people scurrying home from the buses and the tube station about half a mile away.I started cycling to work the previous summer. At first it would take me forty minutes to cover the six miles or so but, as I got fitter, it took less time. I found it quicker and much more pleasant than the commute on the crowded tube trains. I found a route that kept me away from main roads, and. More

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