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He grips the back of my thigh before sliding up, grazing the bottom of my ass before sliding toward the front of my panties. My eyes are partly closed, my lips trembling as he cups me, sliding his thumb back and forth.
“Look how you respond to me,Stellina,” he murmurs, and I can’t focus as his words and actions melt me. “I would worship your beautiful body for as long as you’d let me.”
I let out a gasp as he applies slight pressure, his hand now fully between the legs I’ve somehow parted for him.
“It would be my great privilege to provide you with pleasure.”
What I can’t say with words, I offer with my body, moving against his hand. He catches the movement and through my hooded eyes, I catch the wicked grin he casts. He takes his index finger and rubs it along my seam as his thumb presses into my hidden clit.
An expert in pleasure, I can only sigh in reaction, rolling my head back.
“We’ve established that you wore the skirt for me,” he starts, pulling his hands back just a fraction, much to my dismay. “What about your panties?”
“What are you doing to me?” My question sounds like a plea, my knees weak. He makes quick work of backing me up against his desk, hooking his hands under my knees until I’m laying down.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to.” He towers over me, running his palms over my bare legs.Up and down, up and down.“What do you want me to do, beautiful girl?”
“Please me,” I whisper. Words escape me as I melt into the desk, watching him as he conquers me.
“I could use my fingers. My lips, my tongue.” He grins as he leans forward to lick my neck. I shiver and he presses his mouth to my ear to whisper, “My dick. Tell me what you want. You can have it all.”
I can feel his erection as he presses up against me and it makes me want to pause. To slow down. I can only imagine how many others were here, positioned just like I am.
I don’t want to be them.
Instead, I say, “I don’t want you to fuck me on this desk like I’m a whore.”
He stills for a moment, his breath rushing out against my ear. And I wonder if I’ve ruined the mood. If telling him this has soured the moment.
But within this secret we share, I have to be honest.
He presses a kiss below my ear, and I close my eyes as I await his response.
“I’ll fuck you in my bed like you’re a queen.” He straightens and spreads my legs to accommodate his hips. “But for now, I’ll lick your pussy like you’re mine.”
I’m all soft gasps and fingers gripping the edge of his wooden desk as he pulls my skirt up and appraises my panties, smiling at the simple black silk.
“I like these,” he starts, running a finger from the top of my panties to the wet spot that becomes even more apparent as he presses into it. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you shopping.”
“What for?” I ask, picking my head up to stare at him as he stares down at me.
“For frilly little things I can rip from your body,” he states before gently hooking his fingers under the waistband of my panties and pulling them down, inch by inch.
I can’t think, can’t say anything, full of both nerves and anticipation. But one thing rings out and it makes me pause.
“You only kissed me for the first time a few days ago,” I blurt out, the thought filling my mind like I’m some kind of whore for being here.
But I’m not a whore. I’m a grown ass woman with needs that he seems more than ready to fulfill. I try to hold onto that thought as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“And now I want to kiss your pussy for the first time,” he declares. I open my eyes and stare down at him just ask he begins to sink to his knees, widening my thighs further to fit his shoulders. He gives me one last grin before hooking my legs over his shoulders.
I drop my head back just as he licks, once, twice, three times. I arch my back in response, unable to keep the strangled sound from exiting my throat as he licks with fervor before pushing his tongue inside of me.
I’m so wet from my arousal and his work that when he pushes a finger inside, it slips right in.
When I lift my torso, bracing myself on my elbows, I catch sight of the way he stares down at me for a moment as he works his finger inside of me before slipping another inside. His face glistens under the lamplight and he licks his lips. Just as he moves forward to taste me again, his eyes lock with mine. And he keeps his eyes on me, staring at me while he licks and strokes at my sensitive flesh until it’s too much to bear and I throw my head back, gasping out my orgasm as I ride his face and fingers.
He offered it all to me and I took it, greedily.
When he stands, I expect regret to sweep over the moment. I expect to be embarrassed by the sounds I made, by the way he stared so openly at me.
What I don’t expect is for him to stand, grip me by the back of my neck so I’m sitting up against him, and for him to kiss me.
For me to taste myself on him, for him to hold me like we shared a moment of sheer intimacy. For me to smell myself on his damp beard.
I can’t help but wonder if offering me everything was meant in the strictly sexual way it was presented to me. Or if this man is intent on giving me so much more.
