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I lean against the door to your study watching you work. Stationed behind your antique oak desk, in command, the sleeves of your shirt rolled to the elbows, my gaze runs over the muscles in your forearms, below the desk, the blue blended material of your tailored suit stretches across your thighs, your legs unbent, straight, crossed at the ankles. You work from home now, but I see you even less. You haven’t noticed me lingering in the doorway, absorbed in your task. I enter the room and stand in front of the desk. Above the monitor your eyes meet mine and you speak, although not to me, to the little faces gathered on your screen.

I have been waiting patiently all day for you to emerge. The sun has long set, I have eaten dinner alone. The smooth sound of your deep voice travelling through the house, my only companion, has me ready for you.

Your eyes roam up and back the length of my body as you speak, stopping on my lips. I dart my tongue out slightly, running it over my bottom lip in a silent call. Your eyes darken and flick up to meet mine. I reach behind, and slide down the zip of my sleeveless linen shift. Once opened I peel the dress off my shoulders, letting it drop, I catch it in the crook of my elbows for a beat, before letting it fall to the floor.

You speak to your meeting again, I am impressed and slightly disappointed your voice is unaffected. I run a finger along the edge of my black bra, my nipples harden through the delicate lace and tulle. My hand trails between my breasts, down my stomach across to my hip bone, and hooks underneath the waistband of the matching panties. You watch in rapture measuring my progress, as I draw the fabric from my skin, running my finger along the band. I raise an eyebrow in question.

With still no reaction, I drop to my knees behind your desk, and slowly crawl through the space between the two drawers. I run my hand up the soft material of your pants, starting çubuk escort at the ankle, past the knee, along your inner thigh. Your scent fills the small space, I take a breath savouring the familiar mix of aftershave and home. As I move forward into the desks cubby, my breasts rub against your legs, rewarding me with the friction I have sought, dampening my knickers.

I graze my fingers lightly over your crotch, satisfied with the twitch of your hardened cock, as I pop the button, then the metal clip of your pants. I peek up at you, your eyes drop to mine, and back to the meeting, your hands gripping the edge of the desktop.

Quietly I draw down your fly, folding back your pants, I run my flat palm across the soft white cotton of your briefs. Your hips shift, and I dig in and find the warmth of your soft skin and wrap my fingers around you, pulling you into the light.

I didn’t notice you had uncrossed your ankles, but you drop your legs further apart now, an invitation, you thrust once into my fist. I watch you from under the desk, as I lean in further, my tongue flattens and wraps you. It glides along your underside, dragging a slow, wet path from root to tip. You raise your hand to casually cover your mouth, as I dip my head enveloping you, drawing circles around your sensitive tip. Gently I kneed and fondle your balls, drawn tight to your body. Being careful to bring you close to reacting, but letting you remain in control, my pleasure is heightened. I feel you squirm and thrust below me, I am losing control, becoming too worked up, letting desire take over. Eventually you drop your hand to tap my head as a signal to stop. I remove my mouth with a quiet pop, again your eyes darken as you indicate for me to stand.

I crawl back out from under the desk and come around to your side. I drop my butt on the leather top, out of view of the camera and the virtual audience.

Your demetevler escort fingers run along the edge of the desk, until they bump into my hip. Slowly you stroke the skin on my leg, your movement limited by the watching eyes.

Your gaze sweeps over me again, stuttering for a beat at the see-through fabric covering the apex of my thighs. When you tear your gaze off me this time, it feels reluctant.

Your fingers walk themselves across my thigh, one finger gently nudging my legs apart, sliding further down the soft skin. You lightly dust the lace of my panties, pushing the fabric aside. Slowly you trace my centre, I drop back onto my elbows, as you circle and pinch my clit. Your thumb remains as you glide your index finger inside me, torturously slow, your fingers strong and hard, an exquisite contrast to my soft and wet centre. I moan as I hear the meeting calling your name,

‘Tom, we can’t hear you, you’re on mute,’

‘Fuck this,’ you say slamming the lap top shut, springing from the chair you stand between my legs. Your want and desire now clear on your face, I watch as you strip yourself naked for me. You slide my panties off as you drop to your knees, spreading my legs against the desk you devour me. I’m breathless and you are unrelenting switching from fast to slow, flicking at me, sucking, moaning into me, until I come over your lips and tongue.

Standing, looking down at me you say, ‘You’re a distraction.’

Still catching my breath I reply, ‘You work too much,’

Lightly stroking the skin on my thighs, you wrap my legs around your waist.

‘Is this what you want?’ Raising an eyebrow in question, you run your hard length through my wet folds.

Thrill washes over me as you devour me with an intense gaze.

‘Ever since I woke up this morning to an empty bed,’

That answer is not enough for you, you watch me, continuing to tease as I ankara escort squirm beneath you.

You don’t speak the words to ask again, I fight the losing battle for control, your patient teasing of me maddening. Completely recovered, my last orgasam, a memory, desperation within me blooms, not helped by the light lines of your fingertips drawing pathways as they explore my curves, from neck to hip.

‘Please Tom..’

‘Please what little one?’ you ask

Want overrides my natural coyness, as I lock eyes with you,

‘I want you to fuck me hard on your desk.’

A growl escapes your lips as you enter me, buried to the hilt in one delicious thrust.

I drop my head back in a moan, my back arches, as you draw back to thrust into me again, achingly slowly, reaching behind you unhook my bra. Both of your hands run up my sides, capturing my breasts cupping, whispering your reverence.

Increasing your pace, deliberate but tempered, you pinch and squeeze, I cry out as an orgasam softly ripples through my core. Bracing yourself on the leather desktop, my hands pinned down, helpless, you mount me higher, your urgency finally meeting mine. My submission is not by choice, an instinctual reaction I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to. Fucking me harder, you’re drawing out and increasing my pleasure as wave after wave crashes over me, flooding through me, until I am lost in the abyss, only following the echos of my scream back to you.

My eyes still closed, you cum with a roar, they flutter open to watch the emotions flash across your handsome features, the weight of your sweaty torso a heavy comfort on me, as I stroke the line of your spine, my feet remain hooked behind your ass, not prepared to let you go, my pussy still throbbing around your hard cock.

Not ready to speak, you manage a grin, dropping a kiss to my forehead. I’d return the smile if I was able, I was not coming back as easily as you. Your nose runs down the line of mine, light kisses rain on my lips. Wrapped in your warmth, happy and content, eventually I break the quiet.

‘Are you hungry? I left your dinner in the oven.’

‘I think I’ll have dessert first,’ you say lifting me from your desk, carrying me to our bed.

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