Loading...Rules were very important to her. Rules about eating. Rules about time management. Rules about messing around. She’d lived her whole life by her rules, and it kept her happy. It’d been awhile since she’d had anyone else play by her rules though; she was getting frisky. That’s why she’d texted him, “Are you in town this weekend?” He knew her rules. He liked her rules, and right now he was the only man she knew who could satiate her desires.
As soon as he received her text, he called her—as she knew he would—to find out how serious she was. “I don’t want to have sex,” she told him, “I just want to fool around a bit.” Luckily for her, he didn’t mind the restriction. Most men would. She filled him in on the rest of her idea, and she was already imagining them carrying it out. He found the idea entertaining and agreed to take the time to meet up with her. She was thrilled. They hung up, and all that was left for her to do was chomp at the bit til Friday night came.
The five days between their phone call and their meeting were agonizing for her. Every spare—and several not-so-spare—moments she had in the interim were dedicated to envisioning how her plan would go. She’d been a wet mess all week, although most people who ran into her said she seemed exceptionally happy. Finally, the appointed day arrived, and even though all she wanted to do was take a personal day at work, she forced herself to keep her mind on her job no matter how difficult. It was one of the rules. She got off work at five and had enough time to run home and change before meeting him at nine-thirty. She’d already picked out her outfit; something she was sure he’d approve of as well as help facilitate her plan.
By the time she pulled into the parking lot of her alma mater’s library, it was nine thirty-five. Finding her heels had made her run a little late, but she was okay with it. It would only make things so much better. Her short black and grey kilt bounced with every step she took just like her long red hair, while her white men’s dress shirt was buttoned “just so” so that while she was completely covered, he’d still have a more than satisfactory view of her pert, milky white breasts. She looked much like any college student ready for a night out, running by the library to pick up a friend before hitting the bars. No one would suspect she’d graduated five years earlier.
She walked through the lobby to the elevator bank, and had to force herself not to break into a run. Restricting things made it that much better, she reminded herself, although this close to the brink, she didn’t care. While she knew the ride up to the third floor took less than a minute, it seemed like an eternity because she knew once she walked off the elevator, she was committed. It was another one of the rules. She knew exactly where she’d find him. He was in the special collection in a hidden away back corner by the graduate corrals—a position that would leave them physically obscured on two sides with the large bay windows on two sides, although that second part didn’t bother her. It wasn’t like anyone would be able to see in on them.
When she finally rounded the corner to where he sat, she stopped: both so that he could look at her, but also so that she could stare at him. She’d forgotten how much he made her mouth water and her legs quiver. The look in his eyes told her he appreciated the outfit, and that she’d been a bad little girl to keep him waiting when she was looking like that. Once she was out of her momentary sex haze, she noted that he’d secured a chair without arms—something she greatly appreciated.
“Hey,” he whispered in a voice that promised to suck hot fudge off her nipples.
“Hey yourself,” she answered a little more brightly, aiming for innocently coquettish.
“Thanks for agreeing to look over my paper for class. Your editing on the last one is probably the only reason I got a B.” He was playing his part well, dangerous without being threatening like black leather and high heels. She pretended to glance around looking for a chair, “Ummmm, where can I sit?”
He spread his legs leaving part of the seat in front of him open. “You can sit here,” he said, motioning to the space. “I’m not so sure…”she feigned.
“Really, it’ll be perfect. That way I’ll actually be able to see everything you’re doing while you’re editing, so maybe I’ll pick up a thing or two.” He sold her, like they both knew he would.
She sat down rather gingerly and started a bit when her naked ass felt the cold wood of the chair. In shivering, she’d made sure to rub against him a little bit—not enough to make it obvious, but enough to let him know to continue. Once she was seated, she inconspicuously scooted her ass closer to his crotch as she leaned closer to the desk focusing on his laptop. In doing so, she’d also let her legs fall open a little bit, hooking her ankles around the chair legs for support. She knew her position made things awkward for him. If he just sat straight up, he couldn’t see what she was doing on his laptop, but if he leaned closer to the laptop like her, he had few places to put his hands. Decisions, decisions.
She knew there wasn’t really a choice for him, but she was curious to see how much he’d drag it out, make her think he’d changed his mind and wasn’t going to go through with it. He didn’t leave her in suspense long though, which thrilled her. He leaned almost parallel to her back resting one elbow on the desk turning his back to what little of the room they were exposed to, and let his other hand rest lightly on her leg. She ignored the way his hand sent fire straight up her leg instantly turning her pussy into molten gold. She knew from experience that if she tried to rush him, he’d make her wait that much longer. That was one of his rules.
Looking at the laptop screen, she noticed he actually had a paper of his from high school days up on the screen, so she began reading it. Once he realized her focus was on his paper and not on his hand, that’s when he allowed it to creep higher and higher up her leg. He could feel how tense she was, reining in her lust, trying not to rush him. He loved that he could make her like this. He loved making her admit he could make her like this.
Simultaneously moving his mouth closer to her ear and his hand further up her thigh, toying with the edge of her skirt, he whispered, “So, you planning on going out later?” She swept her hair to the side, away from his mouth before whispering back, “No, why?” Leaning in even closer to her, his hot breath tickling the hairs on her neck causing her to shiver, he responded, “Because that’s some outfit for someone just planning a night at the library.” His voice began taking on that darker edge that she loved so much, the one that told her she’d been very very very naughty, and now she’d been caught. “I didn’t even think about it, really. I just grabbed whatever was clean,” she told him even though the smell of her lie was almost as potent to him as the smell of her lust.
As he thought about what she’d said, he had an idea, a perfect segue into her plan. With that, he let his hand find its way under her skirt to where he’d expected to find her thong; however, she surprised him. There was nothing. Never in all the times they’d had their little arrangement had she ever gone commando, no matter how many skirts she’d worn, or how many times he’d begged. He was stunned. The brazenness of it, especially with the shortness of the skirt. It mystified him that he hadn’t noticed it from where he’d been sitting when she walked up to him. “Didn’t have anything clean?” he mused, practically growling in her ear.
She’d known he would’ve liked that little treat, but his response left her mute. All she could do was mutter a glassy “mmhmm” while gently rolling her back against his chest. She knew she couldn’t force him to speed things up, but the feel of his fingers just resting against her folds, lightly tapping out a pensive rhythm was driving her nuts. When he finally stopped tapping on her pussy, his voice had taken on a feral tone. “Someone’s been an extremely naughty girl. Do you know why?” All she could do was shake her head, brushing her hair against his chest due to their proximity. “Because only naughty little girls dirty their clothes and then forget to have clean ones around. Did you think this would please me? Having a dirty little girl work for me?”
He paused expectantly, and she forced herself to answer him, even though her voice was a breathy whisper. “I didn’t even think about it. I’m sorry.” With that, he moved his hand down her thigh toward her knee. “So now you’re thoughtless as well? Well, what use are you to me? A thoughtless girl editing my paper might just as well earn me an F as well as a B.” The harshness in his whisper, made her whimper both in delight at the sound of it as well as with fear that he’d remove his hand from her leg although. “Please,” she pleaded breathily, “how can I prove I can still be useful to you? That this was merely a mistake.”
He thought for a minute, but in her hideous ecstasy it seemed like hours. Finally, she felt his hand slide back under her skirt and gently trace the outside of her labia. She shuddered. “Prove to me that you can still work well while distracted. If I’m impressed, then we’ll see.” With that, he slid one roughened finger between her folds. She bit her lip hard, enjoying the sting when all she wanted to really do was moan at how good his hand felt. From her profile, he could watch her worrying her lip, but he wanted to push her limits, see how good she really was; see if he could break her. He began kissing her neck lightly, every now and then glancing up to watch her glazing eyes trying desperately to keep reading the screen in front of her.
As his lips approached her ear, he whispered, “Unbutton your shirt some more. I might want to play with your tits.” Dazedly, she complied, fumbling with some of the buttons as she awkwardly undressed herself with one hand. When her shirt opened wide enough to expose her shoulders, he had her stop. He knew how sensitive her collar bone was, and he was determined to get her to beg before the night was through. His finger had been lazily stroking her the whole time he’d been tormenting her with his lips. He wanted to drag it out, so his finger had been more to comfort her than to get her off. After their first time together, he’d learned that he could make her wetter with a look than most men could with hours of foreplay. It was something he loved because it meant that on days he felt like being rough and wild from the get-go, he could without as much worry about hurting her. Sometimes, he thought she liked those days best.
As he pushed a second finger into her pussy, he noticed she no longer seemed to be reading—her closed eyes being the biggest clue. Using the arm he’d been leaning on, he pulled her hair roughly so she’d open her eyes; however, he continued to lazily stroke her pussy using his two calloused fingers. “Are you tired? Do you need me to stop?” he half threatened. She was beyond caring about the pretext anymore, all she wanted was for him to make her cum, but her foggy brain knew that wouldn’t happen if he stopped his delicious torture. She forced herself to answer him. “No,” she moaned, “please don’t stop.” She dragged out her words as if her brain needed the extra time to form the next word. He loved hearing her when she got like this. She was putty in his hands. “Well, I don’t see a reason for me to continue. You’ve proven you can’t work under pressure.”
She knew she couldn’t let him stop, so she tried convincing him otherwise. “Please,” she tried again, “please, don’t stop. Please just let me cum for you.”
“What good would that do for me?” he taunted. Her brain couldn’t figure out his logic, it was so caught up in its own lustful need, so instead, she tried begging again. “Please, please let me cum for you. I promise I’ll be good.” He held her glassy gaze for a minute, tormenting her with his silence and his fingers, before finally responding. “Only wet little sluts would want someone to fuck them in a library, where anyone walking by could see. Where anyone sitting down could hear. Are you a wet little slut? Is that what you’re saying?”
To accent his point, and test her resolve not to scream, he let his thumb ever so gently brush her clit. Her response was instantaneous as she jerked sharply against his hand. At that point, the only thing her brain was registering was its need for her to get off, whether it be by his hand, his dick or some inanimate object, she needed to be fucked, whatever it took. She started whispering frantically, “Yes, I am a wet little slut. I’m your wet little slut. Only yours. Please, please let me show you how well I can cum for you. Only for you.” His slow, relentless stroking didn’t change nor did he touch her clit again. He knew he had all the time in the world, while she was dying. “You’re my little wet slut, are you? Well, if that’s the case, that makes me your master, doesn’t it? In which case, you need to learn to speak to me more respectfully, don’t you?” With that, he abruptly removed his fingers from her pussy.
She let out a garbled noise of protest at the loss of his ministrations, but knew it would get her nowhere. She needed to play by his rules much as he played by hers. “Master?” she tried tentatively.
“Yes, slut?” he replied, caught somewhere between derisive and indulgent.
“Please, Master, how can your wet slut please you, so you’ll let her cum?” she asked as meekly as she could manage.
“After all of the things you’ve done to displease me already, why do you think I’ll let you cum at all? Do you think you deserve to cum?” his voice got darker with every word, and the way he whispered it harshly against her ear only made her wetter. Driven on by her throbbing pussy, she was determined to do whatever he said, if only he’d promise to get her off. “Please, Master, I beg you. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”
He thought for a moment, mulling over all the things he could make her do. Finally, an idea came to him. “Slut, I want you to remove your bra. Unbutton your shirt all the way, but leave it on. Then sit on the desk facing me with your feet resting on the edge of the desk. Do not obscure my view of your tits though.” She thought for the briefest moment about what he was asking. Sitting half naked on the desk would leave her flashing anyone who happened to look down the row, while sitting butterflied on the desk would leave her completely exposed to him. Even though the thought terrified her, the larger part of her knew she’d do anything he asked so long as he’d keep touching her. Slowly, she unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and removed her bra before carefully moving his laptop and perching on the desk. As she went to sit on the desk, she noticed him look approvingly at the large wet spot she’d left on the chair.
He always knew he got her turned on; she’d never been coy about it, but he’d never known just how much of a sopping mess she was. Part of him cursed for agreeing to her “no sex” clause because knowing how hot and moist her pussy was and how rock hard his dick was only made him want to fuck her six ways into next month right there on the desk. A small voice wondered in the back of his mind if maybe she’d relent, and let him fuck her anyway, if he got her turned on enough. He hadn’t thought his dick could get any harder, but the thought of getting her to break her rules had a lot of appeal to him, so much so that if he didn’t find some kind of relief soon, he might be limping for a while. ”
Slut,” he ordered, “what’re you doing sitting like that? What good are your tits to me if they’re so far away? Keep your legs where they are, but bring your tits closer.” She complied readily, although she had to stifle more moans as she realized the position stretched her pussy allowing more of the cold library air to circulate through her passage. He didn’t give her long to think about her airy pussy though because as soon as her taut pink nipples were close enough, he latched on to one while simultaneously pinching the other.
His ministrations had her pussy thrumming like she was sitting on a bass amp; she thought she would die unless he would give her the exquisite relief only his skillful body could provide. He ignored the unspoken desires of her body though, and merely began nibbling and biting her breasts and her nipples one minute, then laving them with his tongue the next. Although he had not told her to remain silent, she knew better than to speak without being spoken to first; however, her silence did not satisfy him. He wanted to hear her whimpering and begging. Latching on to her left nipple, he began sucking on it hard and fast to make it as tight as he could. Then, when he was satisfied with his efforts, he began worrying her sensitive bud with his teeth. As he expected, her control broke. “Ah!” she squeaked. He continued on, determined to break her; he didn’t have to wait long. “Master,” she moaned, “please. I beg you. I need you to let me cum. I’m such a horny, wet little slut, sir. I need to get off for you. To show you how good I can be for you.”
“How good you can be for me?” he sneered. “What does that even mean?”
“Let me show you how tight I can close for you, Master. I’m practically virgin-tight, sir. Please, let me cum. Let me show you.”
Her begging pleased him, but unless she was willing to even possibly consider fucking him, he would just continue to torture her until he was sure there was no hope—only then would he cave. “If my dick isn’t inside you, stretching you like the good little whore you claim to be, then what use of it is to me how tight you are?” he goaded her, hoping her desperation might make her relent. “Please, Master, I need to cum for you. You’re the only one who can get me this hot and wet. Please let me have release.” She was practically crying from her need, but still, he wouldn’t let up. “Do you want me to fuck you, slut? Is that how you want to cum? My dick buried deep in your slick, tight little cunt, pounding you within an inch of your life? Is that how my little slut puppy wants to get off?” He’d been watching her face the whole time he spoke, wanting to see if he could notice any little signs of caving; however, the only thing her face showed was her frustration. He knew the feeling.
In the back of her mind, she knew he was pushing her boundaries. Sleeping with him would make things easier in some ways, but in others…Well, it just wasn’t the day for those avenues. Still, she could well remember the feel of him inside her; the way his dick seemed like the most natural fit her pussy had ever found. She loved being on top of him, teasing him with her slow pace until finally his frustration would win out and he’d take over at such a breakneck speed she wondered she didn’t crack in half. His mouth was almost as delicious as his dick and his hands. The way he’d burrow his face in her pussy using his whole mouth to fuck her was sin unto itself, not to mention, he loved having her lick her arousal off his face afterwards. Part of her wished he hadn’t given her the option because as much as she didn’t want to take it, an equally large part of her couldn’t understand why his dick wasn’t already inside her. That part of her wished she’d picked someplace where he could’ve tied her down, just so that the choice didn’t necessarily have to be one hundred percent hers. She needed to figure out how to get him to finger fuck her soon, or she might not be able to control herself. “Master, please finger fuck me. I’m not worthy of having your dick inside me, but you’re the only one who can bring me release. Please let me get off, I beg you.” The pleading tone in her voice almost left him wavering, but he knew better. He decided to try another tactic. “Why’re you still sitting like that on the desk? Do you think having your pussy in my face pleases me? Get down!” Her legs ached and her knees were sore from having sat in the unusual position so long, but she tried to comply with his wishes as quickly as possible. He hadn’t told her whether to sit or stand, so she decided to be safe and remained standing in front of him. The quickness of her response pleased him, although he knew better than to tell her that. Right now, all he needed to worry about was trying to convince her to fuck him. While he’d been watching her beg, the idea had come to him that maybe her resistance would be weakened by proximity, hence his new plan.
Her pussy was inches from his face between the way he was sitting and where she was standing. They both knew a hard thought would be enough to drive his sinful tongue into her aching core, and that she’d have her sweet, glorious release in minutes. Her pussy demanded she shove her need in his face, and force him to satiate her desires, but her mind knew she was no longer in control. Part of her desperately wished he would ignore her rules just so that she could get off; just so that she could fuck him and not feel like she’d let herself down by breaking her rules. She knew it would never happen though: it never had before. She knew his needs were as wild and desperate as hers, but she also knew that he’d never force himself on her without her consent. It was one of the reasons she always got so hot for him because she respected the caged beast she knew lived in his heart.
The proximity of her lust drove him wild. His brain couldn’t understand why her pussy was a hair’s breath away from his face, and his mouth wasn’t devouring her. He knew his resolve was good, but even this might prove too much for him, he thought—he needed to act quickly before he did something foolish. “Slut, didn’t I just tell you I didn’t want your pussy in my face?” he hissed. She nodded quickly in compliance, but he wasn’t looking at her; his brain was still mesmerized by the throbbing wetness in front of him. From his vantage point, he’d been able to watch her pussy contract as the air from his words hit her labia, and from the tenseness of her pose, he knew she must have swallowed an appreciative moan. Yes, he thought, proximity might definitely work in his favor. Her tentative voice was what finally drew his eyes back up to her face. “How then would you like me, Master?” Every way he could get her, was what his mind supplied, but the words he said were, “Bend over the desk, leaning on your elbows with your ass in the air. And keep your legs open.” He’d added the last bit sternly just in case she mistook his intentions. Nodding meekly, she complied.
As soon as she was positioned, her ass as temptingly close to his face as her pussy had been, he stood up from the chair. At first, her mind briefly thought he was going to walk out and leave her in this position until she realized he was done playing; however, her fear was quickly squelched as she felt him close the tiny gap between them. She felt safe closing her eyes since she knew he couldn’t see her face. Behind her eyelids, she could envision the meaty cock that was straining against her ass through his pants. She remembered every glorious inch of it down to the wonderful purple hue it would take on when she teased his cock and sac for hours before finally letting him fuck her as hard and desperate as he wanted. If she’d only release him from his promise, she knew tonight would be one of those nights, that this could be one of the greatest fucks she’d ever had. She could feel her resolve dissolving, but even still, she couldn’t break her rule—no matter how much she wanted to.
He ground his dick against her ass lightly as he stood up—just enough to let her know the threat was there, just enough to make her feel truly vulnerable. As he leaned over her, he made sure to keep her body as completely obscured as he could. He figured from the way he was standing, someone casually glancing over would just think he was messing with his laptop, and not trying to convince some horny little slut to fuck him. Using his chest, he pushed her torso closer to the desk, flattening her breasts against the cold wood. She hissed quietly as her overly sensitive nipples reacted to the pressure and the coldness at the same time: his cock twitched against her ass at the sound, and as much as he didn’t want to rush his plan, he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold out. Using the hand closest to the window, he began caressing her naked ass while using his hips to grind his dick against her ass and her pussy against the hard edge of the desk.
Her senses went haywire. Between the sting of the desk edge, the pressure on her tits, his calloused hand on her smooth ass and his commanding dick pressed against her ass, she didn’t know which way was up. If he didn’t stop soon, she’d cum whether he touched her pussy or not. As badly as she wanted release, she knew she couldn’t cheat him of his opportunity to stop her from orgasming—however much she wanted to. “Master, please, if you don’t stop, I’m going to cum soon,” she moaned as audibly as she dared. As soon as she said it, both of their minds held the same thought: if she disobeyed him, then naturally she’d have to be punished—it was one of the rules. “Under no circumstance are you to cum before I explicitly tell you that you can. If you do, then I’ll be forced to punish you. Do you understand me?” he whispered sternly in her ear. She nodded as emphatically as she could, given her situation. Although he knew she understood him, he needed to hear her say it, needed to know that she accepted what was going to happen and that it was what she wanted.
“Say it!” he demanded harshly making sure to grind against her particularly hard to illustrate his point.
“I understand, Master,” she moaned. She wanted him so badly, wanted to feel him stretching her pussy beyond its endurance before making her take even more. Her heart and her pussy rejoiced at her having given him the key to take the decision away from her. She was going to get to cum and have him fuck her all in one visit. The feeling almost made her looming orgasm insignificant.
With her verbal assent, he ratcheted up his assault. He wanted to be able to finger her, but the angle was too awkward unless he was willing to flip her over, which he wasn’t. Instead, he used his hips to keep her pussy angled in such a way that every time he ground against her, her clit was forced against the edge of the desk. As soon as he’d consistently found the spot he wanted—which he figured out through her intermittent squeaks and sighs as he pulsated against her ass—he began grinding against her harder and harder. He knew she wasn’t a screamer, but from their previous trysts, he knew the signs to look out for signaling her orgasm—namely, her nails digging into his hand grounding her to this reality as well as the steady hitching in her breath—before she finally slumped against the desk, a contented smile on her face.
Just as she was drifting off into her post-orgasmic haze, she felt his need pressing against her. Even if she hadn’t, his fist-full of her hair immediately let her know that he wasn’t done with her. Even before he spoke, she began planning out the apologetic speech they both knew she didn’t mean. “Someone was a very, very bad little slut, wasn’t she? You expressly disobeyed my orders for you not to cum, whore. Now I’m going to have to punish you so that you know not to do it again.” Despite his words, he sounded almost pleased with her, which was true. He knew if she didn’t really want to fuck him then she didn’t need to let him know when he’d found the spot with her clit; she could’ve let herself hover on the edge without hitching her breath that little bit extra to make herself cum. No, he knew she wanted him to fuck her, so despite her disobedience he was pleased because it meant he was going to get more than a warm shower and a quick tug from himself to satisfy his own needs. Yes, he was very pleased with the wet, little slut that she was.
“Please, Master, I didn’t mean to disobey you. Your ministrations were too much for my weak body. I couldn’t control myself.”
“Well, then, I guess it’s up to me to teach you, isn’t it?”
“It’s not up to me to decide what actions you should take, Master.”
“At least you recognize that much, slut.” He waited for a second before deciding what he wanted to do next: play or fuck. His aching dick was seriously cautioning him against the former, but he wanted to make her beg for his dick before finally giving in to her. “Do you know anywhere where we can have complete privacy?” he asked in all seriousness. She thought for a moment. Her senior year, she’d accidently discovered one of the graduate study rooms up here didn’t lock from the outside, and unless someone had fixed it since she graduated, it would be the perfect place. “Gimme a second, and I’ll check.” As she straightened up, she turned to face him, “Is it alright if I rebutton a couple of these?” motioning to her shirt. Instead of answering, he reached out and rebuttoned the two buttons in the middle of her shirt, then lightly swatted her on the ass. He couldn’t wait much longer.
Luckily, the graduate holes were right next to the corrals she’d chosen to meet him at, so she didn’t have far to walk and the closet-like room she was looking for was the second down from the end. Quietly, she knocked on the door to see if anyone was in there already. When no one responded, she tried the door. Thankfully, it opened; she wasn’t sure what she would’ve done otherwise. The thought of fucking him—despite her initial desire not to—was practically making it hard to breathe, she wanted him that badly. She left the door slightly ajar before walking back to him. “I have someplace,” she said simply then turned around and walked back. Despite his own discomfort, he followed as quickly as he could, afraid this brief interlude might have changed her mind. As he followed her into the room, he instantly noticed how cramped it was—between the two chairs, the sturdy wall-mounted desk and them, there wasn’t much extra space. It seemed perfect. She sat on the desk with her legs spread, both as an invitation and as an effort to create more space in the room for his muscular frame. He took her offer for what it was, and slid into the chair between her legs. Before anything else happened, she had to be sure of one thing, “You know my rule. Even if I do deserve to be punished, if you don’t have protection…” He nodded quickly, pulling out his wallet to show her a brand new condom. “Then where were we?” she cooed. There were a million things he wanted to say, but his frustration got the better of him. With her legs spread so invitingly wide and her pussy once again inches from his face, he decided to give them what they both wanted.
Part of her expected him to keep up the game, even with her obvious overtures to forego the charade; however, the charade was what had made this okay for her, so maybe he thought it was necessary to keep her from changing her mind. As soon as she felt his demanding tongue licking the edges of her pussy though, her mind was no longer within her control: she couldn’t have told him to stop if she wanted to, and she definitely didn’t want to. It’d been too long since she’d let any man do this to her. In fact, the last time she’d let any man lick her cunt let alone fuck her had been the last time they’d had sex. It was part of why she’d been so scared to have sex with him again. She was afraid she was falling in love with him. Every time they had sex, it became harder and harder for her to go back to her life without him, to let other men look at her let alone touch her. Her freedom was slipping away from her and she didn’t know how to stop it. As she leaned back against the wall, pushing more of her eager pussy into his mouth, part of her wondered how much of her freedom she really needed.
One of her delicate hands worked its way into his soft, short brown hair partially so that she could hold him closer to the sweet nectar flowing from her nethers, but also so that she could massage his scalp with her nails. She knew he enjoyed the added sensation against his skin because his contented humming vibrated against her lower lips making her even wetter for him.
He loved toying with her when she was this open to him because he knew once his cock got inside of her all of his restraint would be destroyed. She’d cum quickly enough against the desk edge, but he knew he could keep her going for hours with his mouth. It briefly crossed his mind that since they’d started sleeping together, even as infrequently as they did, he never went down on any other women. He’d tried to once after their first encounter, but even back then, it didn’t feel the same, it didn’t feel as natural. She must’ve noticed his distraction because he could feel her hand gently, but insistently, pushing his face deeper into her crotch. What a difference from the first time he’d done this to her.
Back then, she’d told him that she didn’t like men going down on her because it didn’t do anything for her. He insisted though, promising that he was better at it, that he’d be able to show her what she’d been missing. It was a good thing he performed so well under pressure, although for awhile whenever they met up the first thing she made him kiss was her pussy. Something about her eagerness to have him eat her out pleased him, like a gift he knew she kept exclusively for him. As a result, he made sure never to disappoint the expectations he knew she harbored for his attentions.
She knew he was trying to keep her on the brink of orgasm. The careful flicks of his tongue against her clit. The almost ladylike slurps he was taking from the juice flowing out of her cunt. If only he’d insert his fingers into her passage, or suck or nibble on her clit, she knew she’d be undone, but instead, he continued his slow, relentless torture. In some ways, she was more a slave to his desires when he wasn’t dominating her because once he got going on her, he had the patience of a saint, and nothing she could say or do would convince him to speed up his actions. Instead of focusing on how badly she needed him to get her off, she decided to think about how to make him want to get her off, just so they could finally get on to the fucking. Using the hand that wasn’t gripping his head to her pussy, she unbuttoned the two buttons he’d closed for her when looking for the empty room. Once the buttons were open, it was easy for her to shrug the shirt off letting it pool at her waist. She thought for a moment about taking it off completely, but she realized that doing so would force her to disrupt his activities between her legs, and that was completely unacceptable to her. Besides, she kind of liked the idea of having her hands somewhat restrained once he decided to penetrate her tender folds with his throbbing cock.
With her one hand stroking his head and her other hand effectively trapped slightly behind her because of her shirt, she was forced to arch her back making her pert tits even more prominent. If only there was some way for her to reach her nipples, she’d be able to get herself off, but short of dislodging him from her dripping mound, there was nothing she could do. As much as she didn’t want to interrupt him French kissing her lower lips, she had a more desperate need to feel him fully sheathed inside her. Since making her body beg for his attention didn’t seem to be working, she decided to see if she could convince him with auditory clues.
“Please,” she begged. “Please, just fuck me already. I need to cum with you inside me, squeezing you as hard as I can.” She knew he liked hearing her beg because she could feel his smile against her pussy; however, he still refused to speed up his ministrations. She kept trying, making sure to hitch her breath every few words, “I need to feel you ramming your thick, delicious cock into me, bruising my ass against this desk, yanking my head back by my hair so I can lick the sweat from your chest.” It was becoming obvious to her that he was envisioning her suggestion because his tongue began losing the constancy of its rhythm as his own breathing began turning ragged. She was so close to orgasming, she had to stop herself from shifting her hand from his head to her clit to push herself over the edge. He needed to cave soon, and either let her cum or pierce her cunt with his demanding cock and fuck her like the wet little slut she always turned into around him. “I beg you,” she began moaning, “fuck me hard. Show me how such a dirty, little bitch really deserves to be treated. I need you to split me apart from the bottom up, leave me so sore that I can barely crawl let alone walk.”
That did it! She felt an insistent pressure against the hand between her legs as he tried to tear his face from her crotch. As soon as her hand fell away, she felt his rough facial bristle scrub against her thrumming core, as he tilted his head up from between her legs to stare into her face. The raw hunger and sheer animalism that she saw in the murky hazel of his eyes scared her, but she shoved the feeling away. He’d never hurt her beyond her endurance before, so she didn’t feel as if she had anything to be fearful of now. She could almost feel a tangible pressure in his gaze as his eyes caressed her lips and tweaked her taut nipples. The magnetic pull of his eyes was finally broken when he exhaled, blowing cold air into her sensitive passage causing her to jump a little; her involuntary start seemed to please him. She vaguely registered his hands moving around in his lap, but it didn’t occur to her what he was doing until she saw the empty condom wrapper laying on the far edge of the desk.
Her momentary distraction was all he needed. As soon as she had glanced over to look at the condom’s packaging, he gripped her knees and pulled her into his lap. She hissed a little as the edge of the desk scrapped against her bare ass, but it quickly turned into a contented hum as she felt the swell of him resting parallel to her pussy. To keep her from giving him an impromptu lap dance, and causing him to cum far too quickly, he held her hips fast in with a bruising grip. The smallest of whimpers escaped her mouth, but he knew she could take it, so he refused to relent. He knew she was ready for him already from her seeping wetness to his earlier handjob and his aborted oral ministrations, but still he waited before shredding her apart with his dick. He knew that if he could hold out a little longer, that she would be willing to do just about anything just to feel him nestled inside her honey-coated depths. Concentrating on his breathing, he waited until her frustration with his pacing overwhelmed her again.
“Why won’t you fuck me? Did I do something to displease you?” she whispered plaintively.
“No, you haven’t. Watching your little cupid-bow mouth beg though, always manages to give me the best hard-ons of my life,” he replied almost smiling.
“Please, sir, let me feel you inside me. Use me like a dirty little whore to fulfill your needs.”
Even seated, he still had a few inches of height on her, so as she spoke to him, she was forced to gaze up at him through her lashes. The angle of her face along with the half-hooded, lust-glazed look she gave him undid his resolve to get her to crack first. He needed to be inside her pussy, and he needed to be there right now. Using his hands to guide her, he lifted her a few inches off his lap and then lined up his throbbing dick with her entrance. Part of him just wanted to shove her down on his cock, but he wanted to enjoy the sensation of being inside her for at least a few minutes before blowing his load. She kept the walls of her pussy clenched as he pushed himself inside her, inch by glorious inch. Even with as wet as she was, the added resistance made his insertion a slow going process. She hissed as he worked himself into her; she hadn’t been kidding when she’d said that she was virgin-tight. It’d been too long since her body had had to accommodate a man, let alone one of his considerable girth. Eventually though, he was completely inside her. He retained his grip on her hips so that he’d be better able to enjoy the moment without her squirming, although he couldn’t control her occasional vaginal muscle spasms that kept trying to milk his dick without her having to move. He closed his eyes breathing out hard though his nose, trying to concentrate. She seemed determined to get him to embarrass himself.
Unfortunately for him, in his efforts to calm himself down, he forgot to keep her hips restrained. As soon as she noticed his slackened grip, she took the opportunity to begin gently rocking on her hips making sure to squeeze his dick with her pussy every time she rocked upward. His eyes shot open as soon as he felt her languid movements in his lap. She gazed up at him: her look part mischievous, part challenge, daring him to tell her to stop. Her mouth was what killed the last of his resistance though, the way her half-parted lips were wrapping around the sighs she was making as she gripped and caressed his cock, he knew he couldn’t deny her the fulfillment she’d been begging for all night. With that thought, he simultaneously did two things: he began using his thumb to toy with her clit as he leaned his face down into hers and began ravaging her mouth with his tongue. She bucked against him violently as the sensation overload caused her brain to shut down turning her body into one giant pool of sexual need. Despite her desire to continue torturing him as he had her, that was no longer an option: she just needed to fuck.
Their bodies began grinding against one another like writhing snakes, their limbs getting entangled as hands sought out skin or hair, ass or pussy. They’d barely been at it for ten minutes before she felt herself hovering on the precipice of orgasm yet again. She could already begin to feel her legs cramping up and her ass getting sore from the furious pace of their humping, but she couldn’t bring herself to slow down because she needed to cum with him trapped inside her. Right as she began formulating her next salvo of x-rated suggestions, she felt his rhythm begin to sputter and then his three quick jerks against her, after which he quickly slumped back against the chair. Realizing he wasn’t going to be able to help her reach her own orgasmic destination, she did the next best thing: she started rubbing her clit herself. Within minutes, she followed him in his orgasmic bliss, nuzzling into his chest as she felt his limp cock slip unceremoniously out of her pussy.
He was still dozing by the time her own contented warmth wore off. As she sat in his lap watching him sleep, he realized she had an important choice to make, one she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to make. She could stay with him until he woke up, and finally admit to herself that she wanted more out of their informal arrangement, or she could leave now with her rules to live by intact. As much as she wanted to stay, she was afraid. Afraid that a relationship would kill off the affection they had for one another. Afraid that the fire and spontaneity that fueled their sex life would wither and die like her last relationship. Afraid that he’d hurt her, break her in a way that no other man had ever been able to come remotely close to. At least her rules offered her self-preservation, if nothing else. She didn’t even know why she bothered debating the topic.
When he finally awoke, he found a note on the desk. “You look so peaceful and content right now, I can’t bear to wake you up,” it started. “I want you to know that you’re the only one, and I think you’re always going to be the only one. The only one who can make me truly happy. The only one who can make my body burn like every sun that ever lived. You exhilarate my whole being, and that scares the shit out of me because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to what I am if you and I start something that fails. If you think the risk is worth it, you know how to find me, but know that I’ll never be the one who spends the night first; I can’t. My body is still yours though, if you don’t feel the same way. Til I hear from you…” Instead of her name, she’d signed the note with the gentlest of kisses leaving the faintest hint of lipstick on the paper.
As much as he wished to call her a coward, he knew exactly why she’d done it. Unlike their previous trysts, this encounter had allowed them to peer into each other’s souls, which had left them both oddly comforted and incredibly scared at the same time. She was right to give them both space. He only wondered how long he could hold out before he finally broke down and called her.