So, what if my needy girl can't help herself?
You’d come into the room all shy and restless, wearing nothing but one of my shirts. I’d be focused on my laptop, but you’d crawl onto my lap without saying much, pushing my chair back a little so you can straddle me. You’d reach down, line yourself up with my strap, and slowly sink down onto it, taking me deep inside you with a soft little whimper.
At first, you’d try to be good, rocking your hips gently and slowly, hiding your face in my neck while I try to keep typing. But I’d feel how wet you are, how tightly you’re clenching around the strap, and hear those soft, needy little noises you make every time you roll your hips.
It wouldn’t take long before the sounds and the way you’re making a mess all over me become too much. I’d finally close the laptop, grab your hips with both hands, and pull you down harder onto my strap.
I’d stop being gentle. I’d thrust up into you properly, fucking you deep and steady while holding you close, whispering against your ear how much I love when she's needy, my needy girl can’t even wait for me to finish working.
I’d fuck you until you’re shaking and moaning my name, completely forgetting why I was working in the first place.