Chapter 188 Strip For Me
I pulled out slow, licked my fingers clean—sweet, tangy—while she panted, forehead against the desk.
"Book another meeting for tomorrow night," I said, voice steady. "We have more to discuss."
She nodded, dazed, pulling her panties up on shaky legs. She left without a word, door clicking shut.
I locked it behind her, dropped back into my chair, and freed my cock again. It was raging now—thicker than before, veins bulging, head purple and slick. I stroked hard, base to tip, twisting at the crown. Fantasizing about tomorrow—burying my face in that dripping cunt, then fucking her until she forgot her husband's name.
Cum shot out in thick pulses, splattering my desk. I groaned her name, already planning how I'd ruin her completely.
She had no idea.
SARAH
I walked into Damien's office at exactly 7:30 p.m., the door clicking shut behind me like a lock on my fate. The space was dim—only the desk lamp and the glow from the city lights streaming through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Skyscrapers twinkled below, people in offices across the street potentially glancing up at any moment. My heart raced at the thought, but that only made the ache between my legs worse. I'd been wet all day, panties soaked through by noon just from replaying last night's "review"—his fingers twisting inside me, that filthy praise making me cum harder than Alex ever had.
Damien sat at his desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. His gray eyes locked on me immediately, dark and hungry. "You're on time," he said, voice low and commanding, sending a shiver straight to my clit. "Strip for me. Slowly. In front of the window."
I swallowed hard, nerves twisting with excitement. The risk hit me—anyone with binoculars could see. But I moved to the glass, the cool surface brushing my back as I faced him. My hands shook a little as I unbuttoned my blouse, one by one, revealing the lacy black bra underneath. My nipples were already hard, poking against the fabric like they were begging for attention. I shrugged the blouse off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. The city lights cast shadows over my skin, making my curves glow.
Next, the skirt. I unzipped it slow, wiggling my hips to slide it down my thighs. No panties tonight—I'd followed his implied order from yesterday. My pussy was exposed instantly, lips swollen and slick, a trail of wetness already glistening on my inner thigh. The cool air from the AC hit my bare skin, making my clit throb harder. I stepped out of the skirt, then reached back to unhook my bra. My tits bounced free—full and heavy, nipples tight and pink. I stood there naked, legs slightly apart, feeling the heat of his gaze like a physical touch.
"Beautiful," he murmured, standing and crossing to me. He circled once, his cologne—spicy, masculine, with a hint of leather—filling my nose. "Now, on your knees."
I dropped to the carpet, knees sinking into the plush fibers. Up close, his bulge was massive, straining against his slacks. He unzipped slow, pulling out his cock. God, it was perfect—thick as my wrist, eight inches long, the shaft veined and curving slightly up. The head was flared wide, deep purple, slick with precum that beaded at the slit. His balls hung heavy below—full, shaved smooth, drawn up tight with arousal. The whole thing throbbed in his fist as he stroked once, base to tip.
"Open your mouth," he ordered.
I did, tongue out. He rubbed the head against my lips first—hot, salty, smearing precum over them like gloss. Then he pushed in, slow at first, stretching my jaw wide. I sucked him deeper, tongue swirling around the underside, tracing those thick veins. He tasted musky, clean, addictive. His hand tangled in my hair, guiding me as I bobbed, taking more with each pass. My saliva coated him, dripping down the shaft to his balls.
"Such a perfect cock-sleeve," he growled, thrusting gently. "Your tongue's so eager. Means your oral responsiveness is outstanding."