On Monday around 2pm I was working and my email went off, new message, it read,
"Just thinking about you, fuck toy. How wet was your weekend?"I smiled to myself and hit the reply button, "hmmmm, you were? Not very, I was lacking inspiration....how about you? Any conquests, did you fuck a sweet girl and think of me? "
Almost immediately he reponded, "Alas, not. This weekend was spent working, big deadline coming up. But I did find myself one handed more than once, a certain buxom lady bending over in my mind. A certain pair of luscious, lickable, suckable nipples on my minds tongue, a certain sex-eyed, short-haired head bobbing between my legs. But, constant work did prevent me from sharing these thoughts though. What are you teasing the poor men of that office with today? What're you wearing?"
I couldn't help responding myself, "I love your dirty mind so much.Nothing too revealing today, except for the silky skirt without panties...."
I had an idea this response would be to my Master's liking and very quickly, I knew I was right.
"Ohhhhh lord. Silky skirt WITHOUT panties? You know exactly what I like. You know what I always wanted to try? I've always had a thing for older women, powerful women, especially sitting at a desk. I used to have this recurring fantasy when I was younger. Hot, older lady such as yourself, sitting at her desk, making phone calls, wearing a skirt with no panties. I'd be on my knees, under that desk, my hands slowly sliding up her legs, your legs, are you wearing stockings? I bet not. I would run my hands up both legs simultaneously, feeling your calf in my palms, then up your behind that sensitive spot behind your knee. Then, up your thigh, you'd have to sit there, on the phone, or even talking to someone in front of you, without letting it slip at all. Keeping your composure as I parted your legs slowly, just enough as the skirt allows, my fingertips sliding their way between your thighs. I can feel your radiating warmness. You nod at the person you're talking to, an uh-huh here, a sure there, but you are slowly sliding yourself just slightly down, enough to give me more room to work with, letting my fingers slide deeper between your thighs until finally I come across a perfect wetness, warm, slick, my fingers take to it. They slide up and down your engorged pussy lips, lubricated by your juices, up and down, sliding ever so barely inside with each run. Soon your clit hood is on my fingertips. I deftly raise it up and start just barely sliding over it. Just the barest of touch, don't want to spook you in front of your client...yet. I love your reactions too much though, your squirming, you very subtle pelvic gyrations. I love doing that to you, so I rub a little harder at your clit, a little more playfully and then a little faster, ramping up the flicking as my other hand enters a finger into you, then two. Your skirt is practically hiked up to your waist under the desk right now, your eyes may or may not be shut in concentration, but I keep going, faster and harder, deeper, my thumb expertly playing with your clit as three fingers fight to enter your tight, wet, slick pussy. How much longer could you last like this? How much longer can you remain professional? How much longer until the cumslut comes out?"
Oh my, my heart is beating hard now, and so I hit reply again and send him the following email. "She has arrived." THen quickly followed with another message, "I just lifted my skirt my pussy is bare on my seat so my wetness doesn't show through, thank you very much. "
He must be laughing inside himself because the next email had a sense of his playing with me. "You thwarted my plan! But, you also just hiked up your skirt in public and your bare sweet pussy is laying directly on the seat. Well played, well played. :) Send me a picture of your bare wet pussy on that seat, subtly. "
I was busy and didn't have time to respond for awhile and soon I heard the bing of email arriving, I opened it. "Where are you my sweet, I want a picture, do not disobey me or I shall have to torture you."
Uh oh, I thought, I better at least send something in repsonse, "You dole out torture well yourself my sweet master, I will see what I can do." I was thinking about how I was going to acomplish this task, when a cruel thought crossed my mind, I smiled and sent the following message back to my loving Master, "Mmmm...sweet pussy." And I attached a cartoon of a cat sitting on a office chair.
Very quickly, I thought better, "Sorry couldn't resist! But, I hope the anticipation is making you hard." The last thing I wanted was to upset my Master.
Based on his repsonse, I think he got the joke. "So you're really gonna make me suffer for it aren't you? You're gonna make me wait to see your sweet, succulent, wet pussy? you're going to make me lay here, shirtless, with my pants down, dreaming of those sweet lips, that warm juice, that little clit that's just calling out for my tongue? This is going to come back to haunt you my dear...this is going to cost you at least an hour of on-the-edge torture, my fingers rubbing against that clit in a perfect rhythm, calculated along with your moans and groans and bucking to send shivers up your body, to sharpen your nipples to their hardest, and leave you begging for an end...maybe I'll go for two hours! Oh yes, my dear, you'll be punished for this... " Those words were like heaven to me , I responded, "punish me please."
"Oh you filthy whore, is that how you want it then? You want to be punished like a cheap little whore? Your experienced, mature, sophisticated body wants to be tossed around and violated by some 27 year old punk? Tied down, hands behind your back, ankles bound, is that what you want? To be bent over, face down on that desk in front of you, your skirt yanked up above your sultry little waist, your wet, dripping pussy exposed because you didn't wear underwear like a dignified woman? You want some young virile KID to place his strong calloused hand on your shoulder, pinning you down against that desk, your perfect ass and wet sex exposed for all to see? You want to be punished? How about a hard smack then? A hard, shocking, reverberating smack against those sweet cheeks. I don't think that was enough. I think you need another smack. Hard! Leaving a big red mark the size of my large hands, how does that feel, slut? Being used and smacked and spanked? Is that punishment enough for you? I don't think so...I think you need another smack and another, each one pushing your body across that desk just a little bit, your erect nipples rubbing against your shirt, the desk, pinned underneath your body, another smack and another! My hand pinning you down against that desk, you're dripping on the floor. We can't have that! Another smack, and another and another. What?! You're dripping AGAIN! Let me help with that I can run a finger across your sopping pussy, mmm, collecting your juices in my hand, parting your slick pussy lips as I travel forward, deeper, maybe I'll just GRAZE your clit a few times, a few dozen times. Hold on , that's too much moaning. SMACK! Again, no moaning until I tell you. Now here, lick my fingers clean, it's the least you can do for making me clean up your mess, lick them very clean. Do you enjoy that? Do you enjoy being punished and used and violated by so much younger? I think you do." I was wiggling in my chair now, desperate for actual meeting. I typed quickly my feelings pouring out, "OH how I hate that you are in New York..if you were here I would be your slave. I would spread when you told me. I would pinch my nipples for you when you told me. I would suck your cock when you told me, I would scream when you told me. I would surrender wen you told me. I would only cum when you told me."
Bing! I couldn't wait to open this email. "What do you mean if and would?! You are my slave! Pinch a nipple right now! Oh I wonder how I would keep you as my slave. Would I keep you tied up all night, coming in to mercilessly tease you, to feast on your pussy, to suck on your nipples, to bring you to the edge and then leave you be on the edge? Pinch the other nipple. I want them both hard as stone. But you could be so useful with full movement, walking around, bending over, spreading, teasing, sucking, crawling towards me on all fours on my every whim, taking it in every room, kitchen sex is always so passionate. Spread your legs, come on, wider. I want your bare pussy rubbing against the fabric of that chair again.
Would I keep you dressed. I’d love to see that naked body walking around, those luscious breasts, those erect nipples, to spend hours upon hours licking and kissing and exploring every curve and sensitive spot of skin. Touch yourself, now, run a finger up your pussy lips, then down, then up...spread them, just enough. But how I do love to fuck you hard and fast and cheap while you're wearing your work clothes, tight skirts, and low tank tops, clanging silver jewelry. I love the idea of catching you just as you come home from work and slamming you against the door, licking and driving you up the wall, until you can take no more, and then bending you over the nearest piece of furniture, jamming my throbbing rock hardness inside of you over and over again until we can both stand no more. Rub your clit! Don't hesitate, do it now, rub it, up and down, for at least 15 seconds. I'll let you decide the tempo.
Oh to have you as a slave...
...or would I be your slave...?"
I had to leave work and drive home, the drive was long and I hit traffic, the entire time I was going crazy, my mind ablaze with his words and the hope that I was still pleasing him.
I ran in the door, grabbed my lap top, logged on. Bing! I clicked to open, "This cum is yours, all yours, inspired, nurtured, and exploded with only you in mind. Lick it, drink it, let it soak you in. And just like a master torturer, this is where I bid goodbye for the night ;)
Oh and don't forget to scream my name tonight."I smiled, I had pleased him and started typing my last email of the day
. "You look so delicious; I will not waste a drop. Sleep well, until we meet again."
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