To the first button of my sweater.
Pop.
It gave way easily, exposing more of my flesh. Its second and third cousin soon met it, and I gasped. The AC wasn’t so cold today, but being so suddenly exposed sent a shock wave through my entire system that instantly hardened my nipples.
With one more nudge, Hudson had my sweater on the floor. And there I was, standing in front of him in nothing but a lace bra and my skirt.
He stared for a moment.
He was speechless.
I’d made someone speechless.
During orgasm, oxytocin and dopamine are released into the body in staggering quantities. And I’d had some orgasms that defied all scientific logic and known study.
But making Hudson speechless? I might as well have been shooting feel-good hormones out of my fingertips. It overloaded my senses.
Eventually, he managed to say: “Pretty nice lingerie for a virgin.”
“Wearing lingerie to masturbate is unbelievably hot,” I informed him, resisting the urge to cover my chest. I wouldn’t hide. I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to want me. “This is one of my favorite sets.”
He cupped my ribs, his thumb trailing the underside of my breasts, which were clad in soft, Cinderella-blue lace. “I can see why. I predict you’ll look even sexier without it, though.”
With the slightest of gestures, he tipped me back on the bed. Legs spread and dangling over the side, I was seated when he descended to the floor and kneeled.
He looked good down there, ready to eat my pussy. With his glasses peeking over my mound, I don’t know if it was possible to conjure a sexier image.
Slowly, he palmed my thighs, dragging his hands up my body until he reached the straps of my bra. One at a time, he slid them off my shoulders. The fabric shifted slightly, and the tops of my hard nipples peeked out from the lip of the lace.
“Please,” I breathed. “Please touch me for real. I need more. I think I’m going to go crazy.”
Not fazed in the least, Hudson traveled to the central clasp between my breasts, carefully avoiding my nipples. Totally in control. Unmoved by my squirmy misery. “How does it feel? To be wanted this badly?”
“I think I’m the one doing the wanting right now,” I panted. I had half a mind to reach between my legs and make myself cum—screw him and his games. I resisted, though. He would make me feel so good if I waited.
Hudson chuckled and slowly toyed with the gold clasp until it gave way. With every word, he worked the bra off my shoulders. “Oh no. This is what it feels like to be desired, Scout. To havesomeone so obsessed with you, with your body, that they keep their own pleasure at bay so they can enjoy every inch of you.”
The bra fell. He took in the sight of my breasts. “I’mrelishingyou, my dear.”
My throat dried. I said nothing, just enjoyed having a man in the palm of my hand, wanting me this badly. That hooded look in his eye, that desperate twitch in his jeans. It was so satisfying I might have been able to cum from that alone.
Famous last words. Because then he took my bare breasts in his grip and I moaned.
Fuck. It felt so good to be touched by someone else. No, to be touched by Hudson.
My moan must have awakened the monster in him. His control slipped. He descended to my left nipple as he kept a tight, massaging grip on my right. When he was satisfied by my soft pants, he switched, making my nipples harder than I’d ever believed possible.
“I want more,” I whined.
“I was wondering when you’d start making demands.”
Smug asshole. I’d hate him if he wasn’t making me feel so unbelievably fucking good.
Whimpering when he released me, I watched as he descended to the aching center of me. I still wore my skirt, but he unbuttoned it and helped me slither it off.
And then I was on the end of my bed, a man hesitating by my pussy lips, his breath dancing on my cunt, separated only by a thin, dripping-wet lace thong.
If I had any hang-ups about sex, about the way I looked or the way I smelled or my inexperience or the fact that Hudson was a coworker and sort of a stranger, those hang-ups disappeared in the wave of lust currently dominating me.
