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“I have an early meeting this morning,” I complained as his arms slid around my waist, “You’re going to make me late.” I gave his arm a light rap with the hairbrush and reached for my earrings. I don’t know why I complain. I never win; he does what he pleases. Also part of me wonders why I would fight.

“Hungry,” he growled in my ear, his voice that gravelly purr he gets when he’s just woken up. His teeth tug lightly on my earlobe.

I set down the earrings with a sigh. “I have…” The thought trails away as his hands stroke my breasts through my blouse. No. Can’t be late. “A meeting,” I manage. We’re standing before the full length mirror and I’m watching those hands — God, I love his hands — slide over the white silk.

“Hungry, babe,” he repeats, stroking his tongue down my neck to make me shiver. I’m always “babe” in the morning. The name-face memory is the last thing to awaken…unlike the part of him currently rubbing my ass. His tongue is warm, wet, on my neck. His hands are hot on my breasts. But I’m not done arguing yet.

“Later,” I try to pull away, to push his hands away, “I’ll be home early since I have to go in now.” I don’t win, of course, but I’m starting to get into the game of it. One of his arms bands my waist as the other hand pulls my blouse out of my skirt. The possibility of later is never a good excuse for him. Now AND later is more his style.

“Can I please…” I start, but now my blouse is totally wrinkled and needs to be changed. And my hair’s all messy. Lucky I didn’t get to makeup yet. I’m going to have to start over…

“You know what it does when I see you all fancy like this,” he whispers, his breath hot on my skin. He pulls the blouse up, breaking away for the two seconds it takes to tug the silk off, then wraps his arms around me again.

“Damn, baby,” he growls, his teeth scraping my bare shoulder, “No bra again?” I manage a shrug, but those hands are on my breasts again, this time with no silk between, and the heat of his touch spirals down to my core. Watching in the mirror, seeing him touch me, is even more arousing than the sensations he’s creating with his thumbs. Those wicked thumbs.

“How can I let you go out like that,” he asks, nipping my shoulder again, “Knowing those horny guys you work with will see your nipples through your top?” His hands give my breasts a gentle squeeze. “Nope, you have to stay home.”

“I’m wearing a jacket over the blouse. No nipples in sight,” I manage, fighting not to moan. One hand slides lower, stroking my belly, as the other pinches and tugs one of the nipples under discussion. I feel the tug clear down to my pussy, which has started to ache. “If I put on a bra, can I go to my meeting?” Look at that hand, dark against the very pale skin of my belly, those fingers sliding under the waist of my skirt. Another shiver and this time I’m sure my panties are damp.

“What have you got under this skirt?” he growls, the hand on my belly sliding around to flip open the button at the back. “I bet you’re naked,” his voice is rough with desire, “Ready to be bent over the conference table and fucked.”

This is why he can’t visit me at work. Too many illegal bahis surfaces to be bent over and fucked. My skirt falls away, revealing a lacy black thong and thigh-high grey stockings. His groan is hot on my neck and I feel the vibration of it in his body as he steps close enough to rub against my backside. I can feel the hardness of him, the heat of his cock even through his sweatpants.

“I love these panties,” he chuckles, giving them a little tug. I quiver and whimper as the thin band of lace rubs my pussy lips. He chuckles again. He knows damn well he’s won. I’m wet, as horny as he is, and all but naked. He’s going to get lucky this morning and I’m going to be late to my meeting.

“Well, you bought them,” I manage. His hand is sliding under the lace, burrowing down between my legs. The other hand still idly strokes my breast, but all my attention is now on the fingers stroking the edges of my folds. I’m watching in the mirror, unable to take my eyes from the sight of that hand in my panties.

“So I did,” he laughed, low and husky. Memories of that day flash into both our minds — picking out lace and silk, visiting the dressing room, being fucked senseless in the dressing room — I love that my guy likes shopping. And, as long as it’s for covering my pussy, he doesn’t mind indulging me. So I don’t get any ideas about going without panties at the office — all those surfaces, you know.

His finger slides between my bare lips, seeking my clit. Another concession to him — he loves to lick bare pussy lips. My head falls back against his shoulder as his fingers start to rub my hard little nub. Why fight it? I’m going to enjoy it. I always do.

“I love how you have my name on your neck,” he whispers, his tongue tracing the tattoo as his fingers continue to rub and my body melts. “Tells everybody you’re mine.” He gives the tat a kiss, then suckles lightly. “Maybe we should think about putting my name on your pussy…”

My whole body jerks at the idea and he chuckles. “Nah…wouldn’t want some artist playing with your pussy,” he shifts, tracing my spine with his tongue as he kneels behind me. His fingers hook in my panties and drag them down. I’m not totally nude — still wearing stockings — but close enough and I’m still standing before the mirror, with his hands on my hips, staring at myself. He presses a hot kiss to the hollow of my back, then another on each ass cheek. Now we’re getting to the good stuff.

I love this part of our game. The possessive growling. I’m his. We both know it. There has never been another for me — he was my first cock and I’ve been his woman ever since. Only his hands touch me. Only his lips. He doesn’t really worry about me fucking a guy at the office. He knows his woman. But I love the feeling of being wanted, protected, desired…I love being his.

I watch in the mirror as his hands slide up the inside of my leg. Again he cups me, his tongue tracing patterns on my ass as his hands part my legs. I widen my stance and can see his fingers push between my pink lips. It’s erotic as hell, feeling him stroke and watching those fingers at the same time.

“I want to taste you,” he growls, lightly illegal bahis siteleri biting my ass as his fingers continue to play. I’m starting to tremble already, the sensations going straight to my core and making my pussy weep. All the blood has drained from my head and I feel my heart beat throb in my clit. “I want you to watch me when I do.”

“I…I see you,” I manage, clenching my teeth to stop a moan. His fingers have moved back to my pussy, teasing me. A fingertip in, then sliding the rim of my hole. I see the movement in the mirror, but it doesn’t prepare me for when he thrusts. I gasp, jerk, arch, as his thick finger plunges into my pussy. He grinds his hand against me, his finger rubbing, twisting. I can see in the mirror…with a moan, I shudder and see his hand glisten.

He pulls his finger away, creamy with my juices, and licks it. I can’t see him lick, but I hear the wet slurp of it. Then he slowly pushes two fingers into me. My legs shake as he works those fingers deeper and I watch them disappear into my body. He wiggles them and I close my eyes a moment, fighting to stay on my feet as my whole body melts with pleasure. I lean forward a little, rest my hands on either side of the mirror, trying to hold myself up. I don’t want him to stop…and I moan as his fingers again pull away.

“Tasty little cunt,” he growls, giving my ass another nip after he licks his fingers again. His hands slide over my ass, tilting my hips, spreading my legs a little more. As I watch in the mirror, he bends his head and I both see and feel his tongue stroke my folds. I shudder, biting my lip, as his tongue teases my opening. “Quite tasty. But then, you’re in a hurry…”

He gets up and I barely hold back a curse. My body is primed for sex, trembling with need, hotter than the sun, and now he remembers I have a meeting. “Please…” I hate to beg, but I know it’s the only way to get what I want. He loves to torment me — offering and holding back, tasting and teasing only to leave me squirming.

He shrugs off his sweats, stepping close behind me and rubbing his hands over my nakedness. His thick cock rubs the crack of my ass and I moan. His lips are again on the back of my neck and I feel him smile as I push back against him, seeking release. I feel his hips shift, hold my breath in anticipation, and then gasp as his cock slides sideways against my pussy lips. The caress makes me shiver and the sight of his red-purple head appearing and disappearing between my thighs is erotic.

“I guess…” his voice is that silky purr that says I’m in trouble, “I guess I could be quick.” Even before I can breathe, he moves — his hands clamp on my hips and, as we both watch in the mirror, that long red cock tilts and surges up into my pussy.

My breasts thrust towards the mirror as my body arches and I cry out. He’s a big man, my body strains and stretches to hold his throbbing penis, the light pain only adding to the swirling pleasure. I love the feel of his cock inside me — searing like a hot poker, hard as stone, filling me, pulsing inside me — I feel the rush of my first orgasm and hear him groan as we watch my juices spill over his base, canlı bahis siteleri his balls, his thighs.

“Yes,” he hisses, beginning to thrust. It’s incredible to watch this thick rod appear, dripping with cum, then disappear into my body and feel the sensation of it burrowing inside me, stretching me, filling me. Again and again…he bends his knees a little to give himself the leverage to plunge up into me, ramming my pussy. I can’t breathe, can’t speak, can only whimper as I cling to his arm — all that’s holding me on my feet aside from the penis impaling me.

“Please…” I sob and he suddenly scoops me into his arms and dumps me on the bed on my hands and knees, his cock shifting and now hammering me from a new angle. I pant, my fingers fisting in the sheets, as his penis strokes my pussy continuously in and out.

“Watch!” he demands, his own breath panting. I turn my head to see us still in the mirror, that red member still sliding in and out of my body. Again his knees bend and this time the angle has me screaming. He grunts as he jackhammers my g-spot, sending lightning bursts through my body. I can barely keep my eyes open, but then I meet his eyes in the mirror and see the hunger that he has for me.

“Yes…” I sob, feeling his thrusts grow faster, harder, his cock swelling even more inside me. “Please…” It’s incredible to watch the tension in his body, to feel his fingers dig into my hips, to see the veins on his neck stand out as he strains, driving that thick rod into my pussy. I can see his balls tighten, draw up even as my core begins to quiver with pending orgasm.

“DAMN!” His roar is nothing compared to the tidal wave of cum that explodes into my core. I shudder through my own orgasm, unable to tear my eyes from the mirror, from the sight of my body shaking as this thick red rod pulses, buried almost completely inside me. The heat of him sears me as it fills me and spurts out around his rod, white oozing around the edges of my hole. He pumps his cock inside me, his balls slapping my swollen lips, my clit, his cum still erupting inside my pussy. Unable to still my own shuddering pleasure, I drop my head to the sheets and moan as he empties himself inside me.

He pulls away with a slurping sound and I manage to lift my head again. In the mirror I see white speckles the back of my thighs, white cream oozing over my pink pussy flesh. He’s standing a step away, his spent cock hanging half-erect between his legs as he balances himself with hands on his knees, panting. My pale skin is flushed pink, but that fades slowly as I shift and roll over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Well,” I say, trying for a severe tone and crossing my arms over my breasts, “I hope you’re happy. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

His head comes up with a jerk and I see the dark humor in his eyes. “I could always come in with you, show them why you’re late,” he offers, the sparkle I love lighting the green of his eyes.

I shiver, imagining him bending me over the conference table and fucking me while my co-workers watch. “Then you’d have to share,” I manage. I can see he knows what I’m imagining. He narrows his eyes a moment and wonder what he’s considering.

Then he chuckles. “Get along with you,” he waves at me, “And be sure you do get home early — I plan on eating in tonight and you’re on the menu.”

What better incentive is there than that?

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