The Fighter's Secretary(3)

By: Ann Mayburn

When the shirt was fully unbuttoned she glanced at what he assumed was the closed door to his office, biting her plump lower lip, then slipped her glasses off and set them on the couch next to her. Still holding the nipple clamps in one hand, she parted her shirt to reveal her lacy white demi-bra cupping the best tits he’d ever seen. Despite her slender figure she had full breasts that pushed against the material of her bra. When she tugged a cup down, revealing one elongated, dark nipple he almost came in his pants.

Dragging in a deep breath into his oxygen starved lungs, he gave a tormented groan as she began to apply the clamp to her left breast like she knew what she was doing. Then she repeated the gesture with her right breast until both of her delicious nipples were pinched between the clamps. He wished he could zoom the camera in, take in the nuances of her expression, watch the flush he could faintly see spread from her cheeks down to her chest. The body she hid behind her conservative suits was fucking amazing and he wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked.

She grasped the chain dangling between her breasts and gave it a good tug, her whimper making him want to go hunt her down right now and fuck her until she screamed his name. Giving the door another quick glance, she kicked off her heels and placed her stocking covered feet on the edge of the table, then lifted her butt so she could wiggle her knee length skirt up around her hips. When the edges of her white garters holding up her nude thigh highs were revealed he had to grab his dick through his pants, swearing under his breath at the realization that she wore such naughty underwear beneath her suits.

She slipped the edge of her panties aside and he strained to see her pussy, but he could only catch a glimpse of bare, slick flesh and his mouth watered. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any sexier, he found out she shaved that pretty little cunt of hers. He could almost taste her against his lips, almost feel that oh so soft flesh against the head of his cock as he penetrated her. His dick ached and he paused the tape to quickly go to his door and lock it before returning to his desk and jerking his pants down enough to free his cock. He’d been going through a dry spell for the past few months, unable to find any woman that interested him like his hot little PA, and his control was tenuous at best. If he didn’t jerk off he was going to kidnap Amanda and fuck her until she admitted she wanted him.

After playing with her pussy for a few minutes she took the chain connecting the nipple clamps and placed it in her mouth, giving a sharp jerk with her head that pulled at her nipples. His groan matched hers and he stroked himself, rubbing lightly along his shaft and trying to keep from coming too quick. Normally he had better control, but fucking hell she was the hottest piece of ass he’d ever seen. She reached out and grabbed his T-shirt off the couch and he wondered what she was doing with it before she brought it to her face and took a visible inhalation.

She trembled and the speed of her fingers between her legs increased. After giving the nipple clamps a good jerk she let the chain drop from her mouth and tossed her head back against the couch then whispered, “Dallas…Master…please…”

Fierce pride and determination filled him and he nearly laughed in surprise. His little prim, proper, submissive, secretary, who shot him down every chance she got, wanted him. Bad.

Amanda continued to whisper his name and spread her legs wider, the silk of her panties partially obscuring her sex as she lifted her hips as if she was being fucked while lifting his shirt to her face again. His climax threatened to spill at any moment, streaks of erotic fire burning from the base of his spine to his cock as he slowed his movements, wanting to come when Amanda did. She was getting close, panting now and dropping his shirt so she could pull at the nipple clamps, her needy moans and sexy whispers destroying him. The fact that she wasn’t putting on a show, that she was touching herself like this in private, made him practically rabid to have her.

Her face tensed and she sucked in a deep breath then let out a throaty cry that went straight to his balls and he barely had time to cup his hand over the head of his cock to make sure he didn’t get his come all over his pants. Amanda shuddered and cried out again, saying his name and calling him Master over and over, intensifying his own orgasm until he was groaning along with her recorded cries. Oh yeah, he fucking owned that pussy, she just didn’t know it yet. He’d make all of her naughty dreams come true, be the kind of Master she needed, give her everything her little submissive heart desired and love every moment of it.

Grabbing some tissues, he cleaned himself without looking away from the screen. Amanda had slumped back against his couch, her breasts trembling as she panted and he wished he could somehow reach through the monitor and gather her limp body against his, inhale the scent of her release mixed with her spicy perfume, take her long black hair down from the tight bun she kept it in and run his hands through it while he kissed her swollen, pouty lips. She let her legs drop from the table and sighed, then began to unscrew first her left nipple, then her right, wincing as the clamps were removed and revealing her swollen nubs. He longed to lick those no doubt sensitive tips, rouse her again so he could fuck her, maybe make her come just from sucking on her breasts, depending on how sensitive she was.

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