Just imagine being her secretary, the sideways glances as her eyes roam over your body every day. The dress code mandates shorter and shorter skirts for your uniform, and she encourages you to leave more of your buttons undone. She starts doing the same, and making excuses to spend time with you at your desk, standing closer than she needs to, "accidentally" brushing her hips against you. Imagine the smell of her hair, and the warmth of her skin, inches from you. She brings you gifts, trifling, innocent things at first, some chocolate, maybe, a gift card to your favorite restaurant that "she won in a raffle," or some such thing. And then one day, she calls you into her office to discuss your raise. She opens her desk and takes out a big, purple strap on horse dildo, and asks you just how much you want that raise.

A lot, as it turns out, but you want her even more. Imagine the sweet nothings she whispers in my ear, as she bends me, err, you over her desk. Imagine her broad flare pressing gently on your entrance, while she nibbles my ear, and tells me to beg for it. Imagine her hands greedily thrusting under my clothes, and rubbing on myyour bare skin. Fingers hungrily grasping and caressing.

Penetration, inch, by gentle inch, until I'm lubed, then the thrusting starts, harder, and deeper, changing with her tone. A throaty growl creeping into her voice as she scolds me for mistakes I've made on her office work. How I didn't seem to appreciate her gifts. How dare I make her call me into her office, instead of inviting myself in, isn't she pretty enough?

Oh what a fine whore I make, bent over, skirt hiked up, and nylons torn away. What a mess, I've made, sprawled across her desk, I better make it worth it! Her voice growing in volume, and being punctuated by the sounds of her loins slapping against my cheeks, and the shuffling and scattering of papers as my body is whipped back and forth her desk, sending her sundries to the floor.
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Anonymous Thu 24 Oct 2019 23:45:38 No.34501649 Report
Quoted By: >>34501658
>>34501640
I better believe she's going to make sure I pay for that! she shouts. Yanking back on my hair, reaching around and popping the buttons off my blouse. It's coming out of my salary, or my ass! And I'm cleaning it up for her, either way! I need discipline! And she give sit to me, laying her open palm across my ass between her savage thrusts. Pulling back even harder on my hair, and screaming at me to get on the floor. The feeling of the fat purple flare slipping out of my pussy, and the impact of my knees on her carpeted floor.

She sits in her chair, still holding my hair, and drags me closer to her, My nylons are ripped already, but they completely shred with the friction, and ungraceful movement. Imagine her leaning back, and spreading her legs, pushing my head between them, demanding I open my mouth, then smearing it all over her nethers. The taste of her lips, and the fluids leaking form them.

Not enough! she says, wrapping a thigh around the back of my neck like a triangle choke, and locking it under her other knee. Holding me there, my face full of her sopping wet cunt, sucking, licking, and kissing her while she tells me exactly what she wants me to do, and berates me for not doing it well enough.

A snarl, and look of open disgust on her face. A raise? I may not even have a job, if this is the best I can do! She opens another drawer, and pulls out a bottle of scotch. The sound of ice and glass, then of pouring, not that I can see any of it, with my face still firmly locked against her genitals in the vice-grip of her thighs. She leans back in her chair, and tucks her free hand behind her hand, and looks down at me while I eat.
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Anonymous Thu 24 Oct 2019 23:46:53 No.34501658 Report
Quoted By: >>34501662
>>34501649
A sip of her scotch, and a sad shake of her head. She closes her eyes, and tilts her head to the ceiling. Minutes pass, with only the sound of my labored breathing, and desperate cunnilingus.

She pulls out her phone, and calls someone. They talk while I munch. She's not happy. Saying she'll have to postpone the meeting because her worthless secretary can't even do the most basic functions of her job right. She's looking right into my eyes with a sneer as she says it. her cold eyes, and harsh words make the urge to touch myself almost unbearable, but I don't. I can't. I have to make mistress Twilight cum first! If I'm a good girl, she might let me press my clit against the toe of her shoe, and grind out an orgasm. But only if I'm perfect!

She hangs up. Am I happy, she shouts? Do I know how useless I am, making her cancel because I'm a whore that can't even whore right? After all she's done for me! After the job, and the gifts, and deigning to call me into her office! Her voice gets louder, as her face gets more terrifyingly livid.

A sudden pause, and deep breath

I'm so fucking pathetic, she screams, gasping between words.

An insult breaks on the rocks of orgasm, as her whole body shudders around my probing tongue. Her thighs get tighter, and tighter. I think I'm going to pass out. I can't even move, she's squeezing me so tightly to her pussy, but I keep eating, I keep pleasuring. For her.

At last she lays back, and her thighs drop languidly from my shoulders. Moments pass with me still on my knees, looking up at her, and giving her gently licks and kisses on her smooth, glorious legs. She finally leans forward, and takes the remainder of her scotch in her mouth, then presses her lips to mine, and forces it down my throat with her tongue. We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, then she pulls away and stands up.
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Anonymous Thu 24 Oct 2019 23:48:13 No.34501662 Report
Quoted By: >>34501672 >>34502937
>>34501658
"How was that, baby girl? Dom enough for you?" I nod enthusiastically. "You were right, it *is* fun! Can we do it again when we get home tonight?"

I crawl over, and still laying on the carpet, embrace my boss, and wife's legs. She seemed to understand.

"You still have your job, heartsweet," she says with a wink," and leaves me to clean up.