The poetical works and remains of Henry Kirke White

Hazel Grimes looked at her husband. He nodded at her. She smiled and crawled under the table. Ivor gasped when he felt her open his fly. Then he remembered that this was a test and tried to compose his face and remain calm. It wasn't easy, as she drew his cock and balls out. Then her hands left him. Jake Carter gave a gulp and Ivor realized that his cock, too, was being produced. Then the test began. Hazel shifted back and forth, sucking on Ivor's cock, then on Jake's, alternating between them. Both men struggled to keep poker-faced, not revealing which cock she was working on. Henry Grimes lighted a fat cigar and stared hard at them through the smoke, his eyes calculating and shrewd. No one spoke. The only sounds in the boardroom were the slurping of Mrs. Grimes' expert mouth as she sucked one, then the other. Ivor knew damned well he could never manage to retain his composure when he started to shoot. Thank God he had pumped a lot of fuck-juice into his voluptuous wife that morning, he was thinking, Jake was a bachelor ...»