CAUGHT MY BOSS WITH HIS DICK IN HIS HANDS (3)

I should have known.

Bossy men don’t listen to their secretaries.

Dominant men don’t listen to the pleas of their submissives.

And right now, I was getting a firsthand experience of that.

Because Mr. Quinn did not stop. If anything, he was fucking me harder with his fingers, and I was already at the edge of insanity. About to experience a body-quaking climax.

Then he added more pleasure, more drive, by leaning down and lapping at my bead like a dog laps at water in its bowl.

He lapped fast and swift, matching the pace of his fingers in me.

He was sliding in and out so easily because of how creamy I was, and the squelching sound was evidence.

So as the monster tingles climbed from my nerve endings up to my chest, then my neck, choking me—my body tensed so hard.

I was cumming.

Hard and intense.

I screamed his name, with no fear of how loud I was being.

The orgasm racked through my entire system, and my body shook . Eyes rolling to the back, toes curling, nails digging into my thighs that I was still holding up in the fear of disobeying him.

And he was licking and gulping in every juice I spurted out of me.

Lapping at my cunt as if it was his last meal.

Until I reached my high and came back down, panting like I had just run a marathon.

Safe to say that was my best orgasm ever.

But he was not done.

And neither did I want him done.

“Lord, you're gonna get me addicted.” He groaned, and without any preparation or teasing, he lined his dick up to my entrance and slammed it in at once.

This time, he placed my legs on both his shoulders, not caring so much about that damn rule.

“Oh, fucking lord,” he moaned harshly, “you’re so fucking tight.” He was thrusting fast and hard.

No buildup. No slow pace. No slow motion. Just plowing into my pussy like he fucking owned it.

And I was loving every millisecond of it.

The way he was hitting the hilt. The angles my toys were yet to discover. The way he was shifting into different angles, slamming into me like an endless hole that was still limited.

I was being used.

I loved being used.

By him.

My moans and mewls were hitting the ceiling; I don’t care.

“Oh god,” I yelled when he found another sweet spot.

The lines were blurring.

My vision was whitening.

My inside was hot, clenching around him like the last solid ground I had unless I wanted to drown.

And at this point, I didn’t mind drowning in this foggy desire.

Those mushy passions sent tons of shivers down to my clit, causing my body to tremble in a never-ever-have-I.

“God, I’ve never had a pussy as sweet as yours.” He grunted as if he was also close to bursting into tiny flames of intense lust.

He pulled out fast and turned me around, putting me in the exact position I wrote in my diary. My fantasy.

He bent me over, ass splayed for his use. Hole dripping with the consequences of his actions.

He grabbed my ponytail, wrapped it around his hand in a tight fist, my legs planted into the floor, and his legs positioned right between mine.

And he plunged into me.

“I’m going to make sure you are fucking begging for me to stop.” He resumed his pace. Maybe even rougher than before.

I didn’t care. Because all I feel is a euphoric ecstasy.

“I’m going to make sure you are crying from sensation overload.” He bellowed as he found a new angle that catapulted both of them into another realm.

Fuck, what the hell is the sex I’ve been having all these years?

“Oh sir, please make me cry.” I rasped under his attacks. Sweetest and harshest attacks into my deep warmth.

I could feel him in my lower abdomen, the pleasure overriding the pain of how deep he was.

“I’m going to make your legs tremble that walking will feel like the most—ugh—,” he paused, releasing my hair and pressing my chest into his desk, making my ass shoot up even more, “—difficult task for you.”

He was maddened.

And I was losing my mind.

“I’m going to make your fucking wish come true.” And as he said those words, the next thing I knew was that every damn moan, word, and other sound that came out of me was incoherent.

I was lost in a haze, feeling pleasure enveloping me from every damn angle.He found my G-spot.

And he was close.

“Lord, I’m going to fill you up to the brim.” He grunted, and I replied with profanities that I could manage to think of.

“Oh god— gonna fucking cum.” He moaned.

“Me too.” I replied.

And with my legs shaking and his hip thrusts losing control of rhythm and pace, he burst into me, and I also burst into fiery flames.

We were cumming together.

I shouted, loud and mindless.

He groaned hard and insanely.

By the time we were coming down from our highness, his seeds had filled me up, my eyes were teary, and my legs were shaky.

It was then he laughed.

And I laughed with him.

“You are crazy.” He said, flopping on the chair.

With the evidence of our actions streaming down my legs, I collapsed fully on the desk.

All sweaty. Still needy. But fucking spent.

“If I’m crazy, then you are insanely mad.” I replied.

We stared at each other for a few seconds in silence except for our heavy breathing.

“Well, this is one of hundreds of the fantasies in your book.” He said.

“Yeah?” I breathed.

“What do you say, every weekend, we tick out more of them?” A wicked smile played on his lips. He is married. He is my boss. Anything could happen.

I should say no, clean up, and dash out of his office.

But I broke into a blissful smile and nodded.

“Same time. Every weekend.”