I’d quit wearing bras a long time ago; they were needlessly uncomfortable, despite being sexy. Besides… there was something satisfying about looking down to see my small tits bounce under my shirt as I walked, or being able to finger my nipples when I found a moment alone.
I’d texted you that morning, whining about how badly I needed a release, so I was only halfway shocked when you pulled me into your office on my way to mine. I grinned up at you as you pushed me back against the wall—working in the same building as my husband certainly has its perks.
“Hi,” I murmured as you pushed a stray strand of hair out of my face.
“Hey baby.” You leaned down to kiss me, your hand sliding from my hip down to my thigh. “Did you wear this dress just for me?”
“Always.” I’d desperately hoped that you’d have enough time to use me that morning. You usually did, but things had been busy… I hadn’t felt your cock in me before making my way into work in a week, and the days weren’t nearly as enjoyable if I didn’t start them with you inside of me.