Former Employers

Tommy Young didn’t work long for Lady Isadora Ashford. After only a month he was fired for “staring too intensely at Lady Isadora’s cleavage.”

Just twenty-four hours ago he couldn’t do a thing to that arrogant rich snob, but after obtaining the gloves a rather interesting vision of revenge began to form before his eyes.

He walked into her grand residence as if he owned the place. The arrogant lady hadn’t thought to change the door code.

He ran into her just as she was getting into her limousine.

“What are you doing here?” Isadora said.

“I would like to most sincerely apologize for my behavior,” Tommy said with a wide smile, at the same time drinking in her appearance.

“If you’re hoping we’ll hire you again, you’re mistaken. You don’t meet the standards of this place,” she answered coldly.

“Oh, madam, I wouldn’t even ask for that,” he said, simultaneously touching her long purple dress. First he carefully groped her breasts, then gave her a light slap on the ass, and finally groped the area of her femininity—everything still through the dress, at least for now.

“Then why did you come here?” Lady Ashford replied in a bored tone.

“I’m hoping for forgiveness. I truly regret treating you in such a disgraceful way,” he answered while grabbing the hem of her dress and lifting it up.

“I don’t forgive you. Personally I think you should go to prison for it, but the lawyer said that’s not possible.”

Tommy answered by ripping off her lace panties and shoving his dirty fingers into her cunt. The rich bitch let out a soft moan and pressed a white-gloved hand to her mouth.

“And what if I somehow made it up to you?” the waiter said in a pleading tone while starting to caress both her breasts and her cunt at the same time.

“And what could a man like you give me?” Isadora answered, each sentence growing more and more indistinct as her arousal increased.

Tommy didn’t let up. The fingers of his right hand were thrusting faster and faster into her femininity while his other hand forced its way under her neckline and began groping the aristocrat’s breasts.

“I could give you an incredible orgasm,” he said, and kissed her on the mouth, effectively preventing her from answering.

Tommy wasted no more time. He pulled his fingers out of her cunt, stopped massaging her tits, and threw the rich lady onto the seats of her limousine while tearing the fortune-worth dress apart.

“Oh, what happened to my dress?” was all Isadora Ashford managed to say before Tommy’s cock slammed into her aristocratic cunt and his fingers—still wet with her own juices—filled her mouth.

For the next several minutes not a single coherent word came out of the woman’s mouth, only a series of moans that ended in her orgasm, after which she lost consciousness. Tommy eagerly took the remains of the dress and the panties with him. Wherever she was going, she would arrive wearing only her high heels and stockings.