“Annabelle.”

It was a one-word command that lifted her from concentration on her work.

He was behind her, his hands around her neck, fingers pressing into her collarbone, before she had a chance to respond.

“You need to put it away. It’s time.”

“But, I have just one more email…” the hint of whine, which she immediately regretted.

“Annabelle.”

She knew better than to argue.

Closing her laptop, turning off the lamp, she licked her lips and prepared to face him, but his hands held her in place…seated and immobilized by her unwillingness to press him.

She closed her eyes and considered what she might say, but decided silence was the best course of action just now. She’d already upset him by not simply heeding his first command.

His grip loosened, and his hands moved to the sides of her face, pulling back her hair gently, and placing it behind her ears. He kissed the top of her head, collecting her hair at the nape of her neck and then pulling it down, forcing her head back so that she was looking upward. Leaning over her, he grazed his lips back and forth across hers, his whiskered chin scraping the tip of her nose, the heat of his neck against her forehead.

Holding her in place, his unoccupied hand unbuttoned her blouse and pulled both breasts free of the lace cups that covered them. Propped awkwardly, breasts pushed together, her nipples stood erect and she caught her breath.

“Breathe naturally, Annabelle. Do not falter.”

She squeezed her eyes shut tight and pursed her lips.

“No noticeable reaction, Annabelle.”

She willed herself to stop clenching and breathe, as his hand moved down her belly, unbuttoning and unzipping her pants, slipping between the lace of her panties and the heat of her skin.

It took all of her resolve not to flinch beneath his fingers as they moved unfalteringly closer to her clitoris, which he took between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing.

His lips, hovering still above her own, parted just enough to exhale his heated breath over hers.

He rubbed his forefinger around her clitoris a few times before he pressed it between her nether lips, parting them as he moved toward her core. Slipping first one, then two, then three fingers inside of her, his palm moved against her clitoris as he pushed deeper and with greater intensity. Her breasts bounced with the rhythm of his thrusts, but she let her arms rest lightly on the arms of her office chair. She was wet in seconds, willing her body not to move against him.

He pulled her hair harder and harder, her head pulled back, neck stretched and exposed, her breathe impeded. But she smoothed it as best as she could.

“Don’t let it go, Annabelle.”

She knew he was telling her to hold her orgasm, which threatened to gush forth all over his hand. But he kept shoving his fingers into her, his palm pounding into her clitoris. She could hear the sounds of her lust, the wet smacks and squelching cries of her pussy betraying her.

“Oh, Annabelle…” he whispered in her ear, “Are you going to disgrace yourself?”

“No, Sir,” she breathed, grateful for the tiny release of energy the words afforded her.

“Oh, I think you might, Annabelle. You’re a dirty little girl, and you’re going to make a mess of yourself.”

“Not until you tell me to, Sir.”

“You’re right, Annabelle, because you’re a good girl, too, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir, I am.”

He pulled his fingers abruptly from her before the uncontrollable pulsing began. Sliding them across her swollen clitoris, and out from beneath the lace of her panties, he traced them up her belly, lighting circling each nipple, and then pushed them into her mouth.

“Taste your sweet cunt, Annabelle, suck them clean.”

And she did.

He let go of her hair, reached over her, zipped and buttoned her pants, closed her shirt and buttoned it.

Kissing her lips, briefly, he placed his hands beneath her head and eased her neck upright.

“That’s enough for a few days, Annabelle.”

Annabelle’s eyes widened as she breathed in sharply and swallowed her shock. She couldn’t protest, but the lone tear that traced a shiny trail down her right cheek was enough to show him her disappointment.

He slowly shook his head from side to side as one side of his mouth curled into a smile.

“Annabelle, Annabelle…do you think a tear qualifies as unnoticeable?”

“No, Sir.”

Her eyes dropped to the floor in preparation for the directive she knew would follow.

“On your knees.”

She dropped to her knees and braced herself, careful not to show any noticeable reaction.

 

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https://brigitdelaney.com/2018/04/on-your-knees/

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