It’s been a while, gw. Work and life have been madness, but it hasn’t sated my desires quite as well as retelling stories for you. I hope you’ll forgive my absence. This was just yesterday afternoon, and it made its way into my dreams last night… enjoy. (This will be long, but hopefully worth it!)
You told me I’d be properly fucked the day before, and so I joked I may need to dress for the occasion. This caught your interest, as it always does when I dress up for you. “Yes, I do happen to have a brand new pair of stockings that need… breaking in,” I added. Your eyes lit up in a hungry way, and I grinned at that slow, unconscious lick of your lips. “Black,” I continued.
“Can I get a better description of these?” you asked.
I grinned as I replied, “… no. Don’t you want to see them? You’re so visual, after all.”
You groaned, a small frown furrowing your brow in protest, “How is it that you know me so well? Okay… sneak a photo my way later. Dirty girl.”
I spent the evening thinking about the wonderful things I’d get into the next day, and I was at that lovely heightened state of arousal that just makes me even hungrier for you. I woke up the next morning and took extra care to shave my legs perfectly. I sat on the bed and pulled on my stockings – black, high-waisted, and crotchless. They were thigh-highs with reinforcements; flimsy and easy to rip, just like you prefer. I slid into my black lace thong after the stockings were on just right and slid my curve-hugging black skirt over the set. I snapped a quick photo and sent it. I thought about how you would react all day at work, until we met for a late lunch and I saw it happen before me.
“To think,” you said with a grin forming, “Everyone saw you today at work and no one knew that you were just waiting to be fucked. Turn around, bend over that desk, and show me what’s under that skirt. Now.”
I bit my lip, a smile and a slight quiver of my lip held back, and silently complied with your demand. As I reached the desk, I pressed the front of my thighs against it for balance and reached my hands to the hem of my skirt on either side of my thighs, and slowly pulling the barely-forgiving material up as I pressed my hips back toward you. I pulled the skirt taught over the curve of my ass and held it in my curled fingers as it reached just below my hips. You hissed in a breath and I let that lingering smile spread across my face, deciding not to turn and look at you just yet.
You crossed the room to me in two long steps and pressed your body over mine, your right hand sliding backward over my ass and pressing two firm fingers against me through the thin lace of my thong, your left hand sliding up into the hair at the base of my neck, pushing it aside as you licked along my ear and spoke hoarsely, “What a naughty bitch you are. God damn it, how could I not have you like this?” You pressed the fabric of the thong aside as my fingers clenched against the fabric they still held and a small whimper of a moan escaped my lips.
“I know what it does to you…” I trailed off into a breathy moan as you slid two fingers inside me, my hips arching up to you. You always joke that I react like a cat in heat minus the caterwauling. I can’t stop it and it drives you wild. Your lips reach my ear and pull it into your mouth before you speak again, “Shut up, Anya.” With this, you press you fingers in further, curling them and rubbing firmly against that deliciously sensitive bundle of nerves inside me and I go weak at the knees for a moment. When I recover, I moan “Fuck you.”
I can feel your grin against my neck and you bare your teeth, sinking them into the spot that drives me crazy where my neck meets my shoulder. You are relentless, making me buck and strain against the weight of you with passionate whimpers and moans dripping from me. You abruptly stand up and slap my stockinged ass and I squeal with surprise, but you’re already back at my neck. This time, when your teeth sink in, I cum with a breathless squeak, my fingers pulling hard at the fabric until I hear the start of a seam ripping and fight to control myself, and I press up toward you on the balls of my feet. A strangled “Oh fuck… yes,” makes it past my lips this time.
You stood up slowly and grabbed two handfuls of my ass as you surveyed me, then you gave a demand in that sexy low rumble you get when you’re about to fuck me and I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling in semi-isolation, “Get up, take the thong off, and get on your back. Hold your legs up at the knee. Get. Up. Now.” I came back to reality and grinned as I stood, turning to face you for the first time since I got here, and slid my thong down to the floor. I stepped back and slid my hands out behind me as I reclined, watching you watch me as I pulled my legs up straight up to the ceiling, then draped them over my forearm and wrapped my hand around my knee for support.
You didn’t even take off your clothes. I could see the slightly maddened look in your eye as you slid open your zipper and unbuttoned your jeans. You reached a hand down to my collarbone and forced me flat on my back, merely saying “Good girl,” as you slid inside, burying yourself quickly as your hips planted against my ass. I squirmed, my back arched, and I whimpered “Yes.” You wasted even less time building up your pace and began thrusting hard as my free hand slammed down against the desk, gripping until my knuckles were white as I let out a sharp moan at each thrust. I came again so hard that I felt near passing out and went completely quiet, my shoulders came off the desk and my weight rested on the back of my head from the strong arch in my back.
You pulled my hips to you hard and slapped my ass, which brought a heated glare from me, but no moans or yelps, and that challenged you. You leaned forward and slowed your pace enough to get a good latch on my collarbone with your teeth and lips. That broke me, and I squirmed, my hips shifting to get every inch I could as my nails bit into the side of my knee, maintaining a tenuous grip on my sweat-slick skin. You moaned against me and a shiver ran along my spine. I knew you were close, but you were determined to leave me a moaning mess and so you changed it up once more.
You stood up straight and held my hips firmly in your strong hands, teasing me as you spoke of previous conversations, knowing I would not be able to retort with my usual sarcasm, “And you say I’ll crawl for you?” I opened my lips and you slammed your hips forward just once, to stop that comment. In its place, a ragged “Fuck,” fell from my lips and my eyes squeezed shut. You were satisfied and fell back into your hard, deep thrusts. It was moments before another orgasm was building for me and my pleading, whimpering moans came with every quick breath I exhaled. I forced myself to open my eyes and look at you as you started to grunt “Fuck,” your rhythm becoming a little sloppy, and I fell into my own orgasm just moments before yours came. Your face became a mask of concern and pleasure and release as you yanked my hips to yours and buried yourself deep one last time.
My knees slowly drop to one side as you pull back slowly and I place my hand in my hair, smoothing it over my face in an exhausted gesture, and let it fall to the desk. I suddenly realize that my fingers are aching and look down, releasing my grip on the desk one finger at a time. I pull it up and look and the indentations of the desk’s design on the inside of my fingers and laugh in gasps of breath. You lightly slap my ass once more time, a teasing grin on your lips as I call after you “You will crawl for me, Lucas. You’ll kiss my feet and beg. This changes nothing.” You shout back at me from the bathroom, “I look forward to it… boss.”
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3x352v/late_lunch_mf