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she managed to ask, her professional instincts not entirely abandoned. Felix reached into his desk drawer, retrieving a condom with practiced ease. "I want to be clear," he said, even as he tore the packet open. "This changes nothing professionally." Wendy squeezed his length lightly. "Less talking, more fucking, Mr. Harrington." His eyes flashed at her boldness. In one swift movement, he rolled on the condom and positioned himself at her entrance. "Is this what you've been wanting?" he asked, teasing her with just the tip. "Your boss bending you over his desk?"

“Watch the man who stole you turn your fear into pure, dripping need.” Pleasure mounted in relentless waves, my thighs quivering and my breath coming in sharp pants. Just as I neared the edge, he withdrew his fingers completely, leaving me empty and whimpering in protest. Rafe stood briefly to shed his trousers, freeing his thick, heavy cock. It sprang up against his abdomen, long and veined, the broad head flushed dark and already slick with his own cum. He stroked himself once, his eyes never leaving my spread, glistening form.

I screamed, my pussy spasming wildly around his fingers, gushing fresh slick mixed with his cum all over his hand and the desk below. He kept fingering me through every wave, drawing out the intense pleasure until I was nothing but a trembling, sobbing, cum-soaked mess on his desk. When it finally started to fade, I lay there panting heavily, legs spread obscenely, his cum still leaking steadily out of me. Elias leaned over me, kissing me deep and possessive, tasting the filthy mess we had made together. “Good girl,” he whispered against my lips. “But we’re still not done. Not even close.”

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She reached a trembling hand to his pants. He smiled an evil smile. "Ah chica that's more like it, you will be begging for Pedro's big deek I promise." She undid his pants and let them drop down his skinny legs, he already had a hard on. If she hadn't been so scared she would have laughed. Pedro's big deek was about five inches long and slender, Dan's middle finger was almost that big. She could tell he was uncircumcised but since it was hard the foreskin was pulled back from the head.

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Even though I knew it would be safer to end things now, I wanted to clutch onto any more time I could squeeze out of my relationship with Devin before he slipped out of my grasp. I had known that he would eventually leave me over my sexual limitations, but I hadn't anticipated that it would be this soon. I wasn't ready! It took me a bit to realize that he wasn't getting up. He seemed to be retrieving something from under the bed. When he returned to my side, he handed me a book. This was so far from what I had been expecting that I just fluttered my eyelashes in confusion. Devin pointed out the title, and once I was calm enough to actually comprehend what it said, I burst into giggles. The b

My breath caught in my throat at what I saw inside. A full BDSM kit filled the drawer. Black leather hand cuffs, a black spiky leather collar with a ring, a thick leather paddle, a soft flogger with multiple tails, a red blindfold, a ball gag, nipple clamps with delicate chains, breast suction plugs, several lengths of soft black rope, a butt plug, a black vibrator, and a small bottle of lube. My eyes widened at the sight. Professor Charlie noticed my reaction. He stretched his hand and picked up the leather collar, allowing it to dangle from his fingers.

"Bend over the desk. Ass up, legs spread." I scrambled up, skirt hiked to my waist, tits spilling out as he ripped my blouse open—buttons pinging across the floor. Cool wood hit my nipples, hardening them more. I arched my back, pussy exposed, lips puffy and dripping, clit peeking out begging. He stepped behind, rubbing his cock along my slit slow, coating himself in my juices. The fat head nudged my entrance, parting folds, but didn't push in. "Beg for it, Mira. Beg your boss to ruin this married pussy."

The box also contained a pair of white, patent-leather high-heels. The letter was at the bottom of the box. She unfolded the singie sheet of paper and read the italic script. All was revealed. avid’s fantasies had always followed a pattern. They featured two themes, which Clare recognised from her own extensive reading on the subject of sexual behaviour. The first was what the books liked to call submission. He wanted her to dominate him. The second was an element of transvestism. David liked to wear women’s clothes, more precisely, their underwear. Whether this was a separate strand of his sexuality or part of his desire to be submissive, Clare did not know or care. But it was there. She ha