Daddy’s Office Punishment (part 3)

I stayed late again.

The office was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional distant elevator. My desk lamp was the only light left on the floor. I had already finished every task he had given me, but I didn’t leave. I sat there with my thighs pressed together, still feeling the dull, sweet ache from the night before, waiting.

Richard came out of his office at 9:52. He looked at me for a long moment, then tilted his head toward the open door behind him.

“Come in. Bring your notebook.”

I stood, smoothed my skirt, and followed. He closed the door, locked it, and drew the privacy panel. The city glittered beyond the glass, cold and far away.

He sat behind his desk and pointed to the chair opposite him.

“Sit.”

I sat. My notebook rested on my knees. He watched me in silence long enough that my pulse started climbing.

“Read back the notes from the Hale call this afternoon,” he said.

My voice was steady at first. I read. Halfway through the second page he stood, walked around the desk, and stopped beside my chair. His hand settled on the back of my neck, warm and heavy. I kept reading, but the words began to blur.

When I finished he took the notebook from my hands and set it on the desk.

“Stand up.”

I stood. He turned me to face the windows, then reached around and slowly unzipped my skirt. It slid down my legs and pooled at my feet. His fingers hooked into the sides of my panties and pushed them down too. I stepped out of both without being told.

Cool air touched my bare skin. I could already feel how wet I was.

Richard’s hands moved to the front of my blouse. He unbuttoned it from the bottom up, one button at a time, until it hung open. He left my bra on. Then he guided me forward until my bare thighs pressed against the edge of his desk.

“Hands on the glass.”

I placed my palms on the cool window. My reflection looked back at me — blouse open, bra still on, skirt and panties gone, face already flushed.

Behind me I heard him loosen his tie and unbuckle his belt. The sound made my cunt clench. He stepped close. The hard length of his cock pressed against the cleft of my ass through his trousers. One of his hands slid around my hip and down between my legs, two fingers dragging through the slickness there.

“Soaked again,” he murmured near my ear. “You sat at your desk all day like this, didn’t you? Thinking about last night. Feeling empty.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He rubbed slow circles over my clit, then pushed those two fingers inside me. I moaned and dropped my forehead against the glass. He fucked me with them in deep, steady strokes, the wet sound clear in the quiet office. My hips moved without permission, chasing the pressure.

“Stay still.”

I tried. My thighs trembled. He kept working his fingers, curling them, rubbing that spot that made my breath stutter, until I was dripping down his hand. When I started to shake he pulled them out. I made a small, broken sound of loss.

He turned me around, lifted me onto the edge of the desk, and spread my knees wide. Then he stepped between them, freed his cock, and rubbed the thick head up and down my soaked slit, coating himself.

“Look at me while I put it in.”

I locked eyes with him. He pushed forward. The stretch forced a long, low moan out of me as every inch sank in until he was buried completely. He stayed still for a moment, letting me feel how full I was, then started to move.

Deep, unhurried thrusts. The desk didn’t rock; he didn’t need it to. Each stroke was controlled and devastating. I could feel every ridge of his cock sliding against my walls. My hands gripped the edge of the desk. My blouse hung open. My bra still covered my tits, but my nipples were so hard they ached against the lace.

“You’ve been desperate all day,” he said, voice rough. “I could see it every time you brought me coffee. The way you wouldn’t meet my eyes. The way you pressed your thighs together when you thought I wasn’t looking.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” I whispered. “About how you felt inside me. About how much I wanted it again.”

He fucked me harder. The wet sound of his cock moving in and out of me filled the space between us. One of his hands slid up under my bra, cupped my breast, and pinched the nipple. The sharp spark of sensation made me cry out and clench around him.

“That’s it. Squeeze Daddy’s cock. Show me how much this cunt missed me.”

I did. I clenched with every thrust, moaning each time he bottomed out. He leaned in and kissed me, deep, claiming, almost angry with how much he wanted it too. I kissed him back like I was starving, arms wrapping around his neck, heels digging into the backs of his thighs to pull him deeper.

He broke the kiss and looked down between us, watching his thick cock disappear into me over and over.

“You’re going to come like this,” he said. “Sitting on my desk with the city behind you, taking every inch while you look at me. And you’re not going to be quiet about it.”

His hand moved between us. His thumb found my clit and rubbed firm, perfect circles in time with his thrusts. The dual pressure built fast. My moans turned higher, more desperate. I kept my eyes on his even when the pleasure started to crest.

“Daddy— I’m—”

“Come.”

I broke with a loud, broken cry, cunt pulsing hard around his cock, thighs shaking. He fucked me through it without slowing, drawing the orgasm out until I was whimpering and oversensitive. Only then did his rhythm change, shorter, deeper strokes. He buried himself to the hilt with a low groan and came, flooding me in thick, hot pulses while I clenched around him, milking every drop.

He stayed inside me afterward, forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard. His cock twitched with aftershocks. I could feel his cum already starting to leak out around him.

Richard slowly pulled out. The warm rush that followed spilled onto the desk. He looked at it, then at me, still spread open in front of him, blouse ruined, bra half-off, heels dangling.

He didn’t tell me to get dressed.

He simply took my hand, guided me off the desk, and walked me to the low leather couch against the far wall. He sat down, still hard, and pulled me onto his lap so I straddled him. His cock slid back through the mess between my legs, not entering yet, just rubbing.

“We’re not finished,” he said quietly. “You’re going to ride me until I decide you’ve had enough. And you’re going to keep your eyes on me the entire time.”

I nodded, already shifting my hips, already needing him back inside.

I reached down, wrapped my fingers around his slick cock, and guided him to my entrance again.