I'm at a club with a woman (I don't even know what we are) and she left me to go get more drinks but it's genuinely been 20 minutes. It's midnight, I'm tired, my feet hurt from these stupid heels and I want to go home. 😫
Her office smelled like her perfume and the faint bitterness of coffee, and I couldn’t focus on either. Not when she had me tucked into the chair beside her desk, legs spread just enough for her to slip the toy back into place. She kept working, pen gliding over paper, answering calls like I wasn’t squirming a few feet away.
Every now and then, she’d look over at me — just a glance, but it landed like a hand on my throat. When she turned the toy up, it was never sudden. Just a slow, steady increase until my breath hitched and my knuckles went white from gripping the seat.
“Quiet,” she murmured without looking up, like she could feel the sound building in my throat. Her voice was low and warm, but there was nothing forgiving in it. I tried to focus on the ticking clock, on the soft scratch of her pen, but she wouldn’t let me settle.
She never let me come down from it — just kept me hovering in that dizzy, trembling place until I couldn’t tell if the heat in my face was embarrassment or need. And then she’d just keep writing, as if this was nothing more than another day at the office.
I genuinely need to hump stupidly against a girl's thigh. whimpering and babbling nonsense that I just couldn't hold back, with my face buried on the crook of her neck as I make a real work of art on her skin with my sticky cum, and she just praises me and tells me to keep going until I'm a dumb, messy girl who just thinks about cumming for her mommy ://
Making her warm my strap while we watch one of my favorite movies, explaining every little thing to her while I feel her get wetter. Her hips keep shifting as she grows needier, biting her lip to muffle her cute whimpers while she tries to get some release, only for me to stop her every time and remind her she needs to pay attention, she was the one who asked for a movie night, after all. Fuck, I just want to hear those little gasps every time I shift, letting her feel me deeper, until she finally snaps and tells me to shut up and fuck her already.
She told me to wait in her office while she finished a meeting, and I thought that meant… sit quietly, stay out of sight.
But now she’s at her desk, glasses low on her nose, signing something without looking at me, and I feel like I’m under a microscope anyway.
Every time her pen scratches the paper, I flinch. Every time she glances up, it’s worse, her eyes flick over me like she’s mentally noting every way I’m not behaving.
“Feet on the floor,” she says without looking away from the page. I didn’t even notice I’d tucked them under the chair.
I mumble something, but she cuts me off with a sharp little, “Uh-uh. Don’t talk unless you’re spoken to.”
The worst part is she’s not even trying to be mean. She’s just… working. Like keeping me in line is as easy as breathing for her. And it’s somehow more humiliating that I’m just part of her to-do list today.
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She takes my chin in her hand, thumb pressing against my lower lip like she’s testing something. I don’t dare move.
“You’ve been distracting me all afternoon,” she murmurs, leaning in close enough that I can smell her perfume, something warm and expensive, the kind of scent that lingers on your clothes for hours.
Her hand slides down, fingers hooking into my collar, tugging just enough to make me straighten in the chair. “And you thought I wouldn’t notice,” she adds, her tone almost amused, like I’m a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.
Then she’s behind me, and I feel the soft scrape of her nails over the back of my neck, down to my shoulders. Her mouth is right next to my ear when she says, “Stand up.”
The command is quiet, but my legs obey before my brain catches up. She pushes me forward until my hips hit the edge of her desk. Papers are swept aside with one quick motion, and now there’s nothing between us but the hum of the building and the sound of my own breathing.
Her hands press flat against my back, keeping me there, and she smiles when she sees how quickly I’ve gone still. “There’s my good girl,” she says. “Now stay exactly like that while I make sure you remember why you don’t test me at work.”
Her office smelled like her perfume and the faint bitterness of coffee, and I couldn’t focus on either. Not when she had me tucked into the chair beside her desk, legs spread just enough for her to slip the toy back into place. She kept working, pen gliding over paper, answering calls like I wasn’t squirming a few feet away.
Every now and then, she’d look over at me — just a glance, but it landed like a hand on my throat. When she turned the toy up, it was never sudden. Just a slow, steady increase until my breath hitched and my knuckles went white from gripping the seat.
“Quiet,” she murmured without looking up, like she could feel the sound building in my throat. Her voice was low and warm, but there was nothing forgiving in it. I tried to focus on the ticking clock, on the soft scratch of her pen, but she wouldn’t let me settle.
She never let me come down from it — just kept me hovering in that dizzy, trembling place until I couldn’t tell if the heat in my face was embarrassment or need. And then she’d just keep writing, as if this was nothing more than another day at the office.
I love sucking on the strap. Because what isn’t hot about me on my knees staring up at you with big eyes? Taking you in my hand and jerking off what I can’t fit in my mouth? And if I move it against you just right so that you can’t help but groan? Pulling my hair so as to move me where you want me?
gummygunk
origamiaround
amandla
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