Mommy’s Break - Fucking My Puppy On The Desk
wlw smut post - cismen & minors DNI
You're curled up at my feet, exactly where I want you. The hardwood floor has to be digging into your knees by now, but you don't make a sound. You wouldn't dare. My perfect little puppy, bare except for that collar I chose—Soft leather hugging your neck, a quiet claim stitched into every inch. Mine. The room hums with the click-clack of my laptop keys, a steady beat that anchors you and keeps you tethered to my rhythm. You know the rules: silence while Mommy works. Still, your need rolls off you in waves, impossible to ignore.
My hand drifts down every so often, fingers sliding into your hair. It's a casual gesture, almost careless, but I see how it unravels. Your whole body tilts towards me, starving for more, and I let you chase that touch for a few seconds before I pull away. I shift, my fingers trail lower, brushing your neck, skimming your collarbone. Your pulse leaps under my skin, fast and frantic, and when I graze your nipples, circling slow and deliberate, they peak instantly. I can't help the smirk tugging at my lips. You're so easy, so eager to please me. A quick pinch makes you gasp, but you choke it back, lips pressed tight. Good puppy.
The air's heavy now, laced with your scent—musky, sweet, blending with my perfume, making my core clench from a tight coil of want. My hand slips between your thighs, and there it is. You're soaked, trembling under my fingers. I stroke you slow, watching your hips jerk before you force them still. You're trying so damn hard, and it makes me itch to push you further, to shatter that control. "Quiet, puppy," I purr, voice low and smooth, and you nod, eyes huge, begging without words. That look—wide-open, fraying at the edges—gets me every time.
I keep typing, but my focus is shot. The heat between us is suffocating, and I need to move. I shove my chair back, the scrape loud and sudden. Your gaze snaps up, bright with hope and hunger.
"Up," I command, sharp and final. You stumble to your feet, legs wobbly from kneeling, and I'm on you before you can steady yourself. My fingers hook into your collar, yanking you close, my breath hot against your ear. "Mommy needs you," I whisper as your shivers vibrate against me.
I spin you around, pressing you over my desk with one firm hand. Your breasts flatten against the cool wood, nipples dragging as I position you—ass high, thighs wide, laid bare for me. You're shaking, but you don't fight it. You never do. My hands clamp onto your hips, nails biting into your skin just enough to mark you, and then I'm inside. Hard, fast, unyielding. Every thrust stakes my claim, a rhythm that screams mine. Your fingers grip the desk's edge, knuckles bleaching white. Your soft, strangled sounds you try to hide only spur me on, driving me deeper.
It's over quick. A flash of heat and release, but I'm not finished with you. I pull out, leaving you panting, your body grasping at nothing. "Back to your spot," my voice clammed and steady, as if I didn't just take you apart. A light, playful smack lands on your ass. "Good puppies wait patiently." You sink back to the floor, folding into place, skin flushed and gleaming with sweat. I see the wetness still clinging to your thighs, the way you're aching for more, but you obey.
I settle into my chair, the relentless tap-tap-tap of keys slicing through the quiet once more. My pulse still pounds, skin alive with the echo of having you, but I shove it down, eyes fixed on the screen. You're back at my feet, head resting against my leg, a steady warmth anchoring me. I pause and look down—your breath is soft, your surrender is absolute. That's when it hits me. The sheer weight of your trust, the way you give yourself over without a flicker of doubt. You'd wait an eternity if I asked, and that unwavering faith you place in me is a rare, beautiful thing I treasure every day.
Maybe later, I'll write down more about you. But for now, it's just us and that unspoken promise between us that I'll take you when I damn well please.
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