PLAYING AT THE OFFICE [FM]

I told myself as I lifted a hand to knock on the door of my husband’s office that it was time to show him the side of me that had been concealed for years. I’ve been denying myself for far too long.

“Come in,” he said from behind the closed door, and I found him at his desk, lying back in a leather chair, nose buried in a book. He looked at me through the top of his spectacles, and the astonishment in those bright blue eyes sent shivers down my spine. “Harper? Were we supposed to have lunch together and I forgot? ”

I licked my lips and marched forward, my hands reaching for and untying the belt of my coat. I couldn’t keep them from shaking, and I hoped he didn’t notice.

“I came here to talk about the deadline I missed, professor,” I whispered softly as I approached his desk. His brows were still furrowed, and he blinked at me slowly.

My coat parted, showing the sly little dress I was wearing beneath. If you can call it an outfit at all. It was a little pleated skirt with a back that barely covered my ass. He’d get an excellent look at the area where my thighs meet my cheeks if I turned around right now.

My breasts were restrained by a tight white blouse knotted around my waist, with a matching black lace bra showing through the top where I had left three buttons undone.

I watched his eyes expand and his lips part as he took in the scene in front of him. Could he see that it was just a cheap eBay Halloween costume? Was I being too brazen by coming here and flinging myself at him?

But when his gaze met mine, it was nothing but deep, electrifying longing in those blue eyes. He moistened his lips as he adjusted himself in his seat. He scratched his chin with those long fingers I wanted all over me as the book crashed shut on the desk.

“I see that, Mia,” he muttered hoarsely. “And what will we do with you?” I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you go without a proper punishment.”

At his words, my breath caught in my throat and my toes curled inside my heels. I couldn’t take my sight away from his piercing stare as I walked around the desk.

I leaned my hip against the desk, allowing him to see my long legs. His eyes moved up my legs and came to a halt at the hem of my skirt. Only inches of skin were covered, and when his stare lingered there, warmth gathered between my legs.

“That breaks my heart, professor,” I replied, swiping my lashes. “Is there nothing I might do to persuade you to extend the deadline for me?” Only this one time? Anything? ”

I didn’t notice his jeans were tight around his groin until he turned his chair to face me fully. My pulse raced when I saw the prize hidden beneath layers of garments.

“You say anything?

” He inquired. “If you can do something for me, I might be willing to grant you the extension.”

“Anything, professor,” I promised, nearly out of breath.

His massive palm moved to my tight, and his searing contact burnt my skin. He dragged it up and down, touching my flesh but never getting over the hem of the skirt.

I bit my lower lip to keep from lifting my hips and arching my back in desire of his hands touching me higher. The slight evil smile that formed in the corner of his mouth indicated that he was aware of what his touch had done to me.

“Good girl,” he said, smirking and leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t you sit right here on the desk in front of me and spread your legs for me?”

I complied, sliding across to the center of the desk and taking a seat in front of him. I didn’t think twice about spreading my legs and giving him a better look under the tiny skirt of the thin strip of black lace that covered me. I was pretty sure it was already soaked.

My suspicion was verified by the way his eye clouded with want. He reached for me, his fingertips brushing over the wet lace, and a groan escaped his voice.

As the throbbing became more intense, I couldn’t help but whimper and twitch my hips at his touch. I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing his hand and fucking him.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he said with such boldness and daring that my pulse skipped a beat.

Harper Collins, the wife of a Holton University professor, couldn’t have done it. There’s no way.

But I wasn’t Harper Collins’ wife at the time. No, I was Harper, the student who had missed a deadline and was about to screw her professor.

Without thinking, I placed my hand between my tights, one finger over my clit. It was hot, and each soft tap made me gasp, even through my underpants.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/zg8nmx/playing_at_the_office_fm