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If anyone did see her in such a state he would be furious and jealous, but the idea that someone might walk in was rather exciting. And, despite her protests, he thought that she felt the same.
Releasing her lips from the kiss, Hugh moved his mouth down her neck and to her breasts. Irene moaned as he closed his lips over one of her nipples, sucking on the hard little bud through her chemise. The wetted fabric clearly showed the rosy outline when he was done with it, and he transferred his attentions to the other. She whimpered his name and the blood in his body seemed to surge down to his cock, the hard rod pressing against the cheeks of her bottom as she squirmed and shuddered.
Her hands were now clutching at the lapels of his jacket and she’d stopped fighting him, all of her movements were that of an aroused, passionate woman. Exactly how he wanted her. Hugh wanted to drive his wife beyond the point where she cared whether or not someone walked in, to the point where her entire focus was on him and the things he was doing to her malleable body.
"Are you wet, Irene?" he asked, grasping her by the waist and lifting her to his desk. Seating her on it directly in front of him, he slid his chair forward to insert himself between her thighs, his hands on the inside of each of her legs to keep them spread. The front of her dress gaped, the unbuttoned flaps falling to either side, so that she was only truly covered by her chemise. The wet fabric over her nipples clung to the hard tips, causing her to look even more provocative. Her face was flushed and her eyes had that shiny dazed look that he associated with her arousal. She lowered her gaze and shook her head, unable to meet his eyes, and he grinned. "I think you might be lying wife... I suppose I'll just have to check."
"Hugh, noooo..." She looked over her shoulder at the closed door, her protest soft, as she tried to push her skirts back down from where he was lifting them.
Laughing at her, Hugh leaned forward so he could gently push her down until she was lying flat on her back on his desk, her legs hanging over the edge. With the top of her dress completely open and her skirt up around her hips, his wife looked more wanton than proper. His cock throbbed with excitement at seeing her laid out like this; in his fantasies she’d always been completely naked by this point, but the open clothing added a certain spice to reality that just couldn’t be beat.
Pulling her legs up and over his shoulders to make her more comfortable – having them hang like that looked rather awkward - and so that she couldn't close them, he grinned at her as he wrapped one arm around her thigh and laid his hand over her mound with its coppery curls, stroking one finger down between her folds. It came away soaking wet.
"You lied, wife."
******
Irene closed her eyes as the heat rose in her face at her husband’s self-satisfied tone. When she'd come into Hugh's study this morning, this was the last thing she had expected - or she would have locked the door behind her! And at the same time, the possibility of being caught did, indeed, make this entire encounter even more exciting. It felt as though her pulse was pounding through her veins, her anxiety adding to the burning desire that he had kindled in her. Her skin was buzzing with Hugh's touch, her nipples aching for more attention from his mouth and fingers, and the wetness between the folds of her womanhood was increasing with every second.
She moaned as she felt Hugh's fingers part those folds, his hot breath coming a moment before his tongue slid up the center and flicked against the little pleasure nub at the apex. Irene knew that, in all propriety, she should resist further, she should at the very least close her dress back over her breasts, but she didn't. Instead she just moaned and threaded her fingers through her husband's hair as he lapped at the cream his ministrations had produced.
The chair behind him scraped on the floor as he scooted even closer, and Irene realized that Hugh had seated himself comfortably so that he could attend to her at his leisure. She knew that her husband sometimes had desires that were nothing like she'd been prepared for, and she had to wonder if this was one of them... had Hugh sat in his study, wanting the chance to lay her out across his desk like this and use his mouth on her sensitive folds? It didn't seem at all unbelievable.
It felt like he was peeling back the petals of her body, taking his time as he nibbled each one and drew his tongue along each crevice. The sensations made her body tighten and quiver, but they weren't enough to bring her to the ultimate pleasure... no, he was teasing her, taunting her with his mouth, almost mocking her for her claim that he hadn't made her wet.
"Hugh, please," she begged, gasping as his tongue actually felt like it slid inside of her. Her head thrashed back and forth on the desk, her hips moving up and down as she tried to force Hugh's head into the position she wanted. Needed. The pressure was building up inside of her and it had nowhere to go.
"Are you wet, Irene?"
"Yes!"
As if in reward for her honesty, his tongue slid back inside of her and out of her again, the same way his fingers or his rod might and Irene bucked and moaned. Her legs tightened over his shoulders, trying to draw him further into her body, needing him desperately.
"Do you want to cum, Irene?"
"Yes, Hugh, please, I want to cum," she begged, forgetting in her need to keep her voice down. Her movements were causing her breasts to jiggle, the nipples rubbing against the fabric of her chemise which felt rough and abrasive where it had been wetted by his mouth. The throbbing of those tender buds seemed to be pulsing in time with the needy clenches of her core. "Make me cum, please Hugh."
His tongue circled her clitoris, brushing against it, and Irene's hips jerked as she writhed with the ecstatic sensation. The pressure inside of her seemed to surge, but didn't break, as he dipped back down into her slit before coming back up to tease the swollen bud again. Irene tried to leverage herself to press the sensitive spot more firmly against her husband's tongue, but it just circled and swept away again. The teasing was driving her out of her mind.
"OH! Hugh please!"
"Do you want me to fuck you, Irene?"
Irene moaned, the crude word making her shudder even as a surge of anticipation made her tighten. He'd heightened her passionate need to the point where she felt rather wild with it.
"Hugh, please..."
"Say it, Irene."
She opened her eyes as her legs were lowered and Hugh stood up. The hungry look he gave her as he began to unlace the front of his trousers left her no doubt that he was just as aroused as she was. The position he’d left her in wasn’t entirely comfortable, but she could see how it affected him.
Something new, something wicked, unfurled inside of her. She’d seen this look on his face before, but she’d never thought to use it. Now she wanted to make him feel as out of control as she did. Irene licked her lips, finding that Hugh's gaze suddenly locked onto her mouth when she did so.
"Please Hugh," she whispered, bringing her hands up to her breasts, which were absolutely aching. It felt amazing. She ran her fingertips over the mounds, her back bowing a bit as the soft touch teased her nipples. Hugh’s eyes flared with passion and she squeezed her breasts
, watching him watch her. "Please..."
"Irene..." His voice sounded suddenly ragged, and she could tell that he had frozen in place. It was as if a match had been struck inside of her head, igniting her, emboldening her. Irene did something she’d never thought of before; she released one breast and moved her hand over the soft fabric of her chemise and the bunched skirts, down to her mound, and pressed her finger right against where she ached the most. It felt almost as good as when Hugh touched her there.
