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“What would that be, then?”
“I want you to do everything I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t second guess. Just obey me.”
The change in her demeanor is instantaneous.
“Of course, Mr. Reddick.”
“Take your hair down.”
Her slender arms reach up behind her head, and she pulls at a couple of pins. Her hair cascades around her, and I immediately step forward and run my hands through it. It’s soft and silky, and she manages to give me a sweet, shy glance through her lashes while I touch it. I comb my fingers through it once more and then let it drop around her shoulders.
“Open your blouse—the top buttons only,” I instruct her, and she complies immediately. I can see her creamy smooth skin as she exposes it, button by button, until just the top part of her breasts and a lacy, white bra are visible. “Stop right there.”
She does.
“Take that skirt off,” I command. “Panties, too—if you are wearing any.”
Again, she is completely compliant, and I’m getting so fucking hard, I’m not so sure the recent masturbation was worth the effort. She reaches behind her back, and a moment later, her skirt is dropping off her hips and getting caught on the edge of her come-fuck-me boots. She blushes—fucking blushes—and reaches down to release the fabric. The skirt falls to the floor. She is wearing panties but no stockings. The panties are white like her bra with a little lace scattered here and there. They are crotchless, but she starts taking them down as well—just as she is instructed.
I feel like I could come just watching her strip.
The panties get caught on the boots as well, and this time the fabric isn’t so cooperative. The panties snag the decorative buckle on the side of the boots, and she is blushing again. She almost loses her balance as she tries to dislodge them.
“Stop,” I tell her—and again, her obedience is instant. I fucking love it, control freak that I am. “Take the boots off before you fall on your ass.”
“If you wish,” she says softly. She nearly falls again but manages to pull the damn things off before I give up and offer to help. I do smirk a bit—I can’t help it—when she looks back up at me. Again, she manages to blush and look completely shy and uneasy with herself. I might call it cute, but in her current position, it just doesn’t fit. The panties, boots, and skirt are now piled up on my office floor, and she stands upright again, her completely bare pussy exposed to my wandering eyes.
Fucking gorgeous.
“Open your blouse some more.”
“Yes, sir.”
Oh, yeah—I like the sound of that.
A lot of women just don’t buy into this kind of subservience, and I don’t care—I like it. It’s just one more reason I don’t date.
She works a couple more buttons before I tell her to stop again.
“Does that bra unclasp in the front?”
“Yes, sir—just as you asked.”
“Release it.”
She does, and her breasts are now more exposed to me but still not completely. It’s much like when one of the hot, young women execs has a low-cut blouse, and I find myself trying to peek around the edge to see what there is to see. Part of each nipple is visible, and I find myself licking my lips.
“I want you on your knees,” I tell her and feel myself grow impossibly harder as she drops down in front of me, her eyes looking up and gazing at me with practiced adoration. Her tongue sweeps over her bottom lip. I take a step forward, and her head is perfectly aligned with my crotch.
“Use your mouth,” I tell her. “Over my pants—kiss it.”
She slides closer on her knees, her eyes still on mine as she leans forward slightly and places her hands on the outsides of my thighs. She licks her bottom lip and stares at me through her lashes. She arches her back slightly, and I can see just the slightest edge of a nipple still tucked away at the edge of her partially open shirt.
She starts at the tip, glancing down only once before placing a closed-mouthed, lip-glossed peck right on the head. She licks her lips again before she tilts her head and kisses my shaft—open-mouthed—all the way down to my balls.
“Good girl,” I murmur. She kisses back up to the tip, emitting hot breath from her mouth along the way. When she’s done, she stops and looks up at me.
“May I see you?” she asks, and her voice is quiet and demure. “I would really like to see you, Mr. Reddick…please?”
