Naked Sushi. Jina Bacarr

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      Then he came.

      His explosive climax set off an out-of-control response in me. I went wild, crying out, thrashing about and slamming my hands down on the platen glass of the copy machine. Crazed, frantic, lost in whirling abandon, I slid my sweaty palms all over the machine. Wild, pawing, and scratching like a wolf in heat.

      Oh, my God, it was good.

      It didn’t last.

      In a wild moment, I pushed the copy button by mistake. A powerful white light flooded into my face as the light bar moved back and forth, blinding me.

      I hit another button and a blaring alarm went off.

      Oh, shit.

      I was a goner.