The Doorman

The doorman entered tentatively.

"Ms. Ancilla?"

He froze when he saw her on her knees, hands furiously pumping underneath her leather skirt. Her eyes went wide when she saw him, but she couldn't stop her hands. Her cheeks burned with humiliation.

"G, get out of here," she managed in a breathy whisper.

The Doorman didn't turn to leave.

"Looks like you could use some help," he said smiling.

"Come here."

Mary opened her mouth to say something nasty, to threaten him, to say anything to get him to leave.

"Yes Master," she said.

She began crawling on her hands and knees toward him, giving him the best view of her swaying tits possible. The Doorman waited patiently.