Maybe because when I walk into the room, every single wet dream I’ve ever had about workplace sexual escapades couldn’t come close to the sight in front of me. Romeo. Hart. Beau. Each of them stands to greet me with panty dropping smiles. Speaking of panties, I’ll need new ones. How does one end up with three bosses who look like they should be on the covers of romance novels? No idea. Bodies? Rideable. Faces? Sittable. Dicks? I haven’t seen them, but I'm betting they are fuckable. Or lickable. What more could you ask for?
