“I’m not wicked. At least, I try not to be,” she amended. “I try to avoid trouble, but somehow I end up running straight into it.”
Her protest was perfection, a mix of innocence and guile. The fact that she believed what she was saying was endearing. It was as if she didn’t realize that mischief-making was part of her nature. That she enjoyed playing games as much as he did. That she was a provocative little vixen through and through.
“You have been caught, young miss,” he said severely. “And I shall be doling out your punishment.”
“Oh, sir. Please don’t punish me.”
Her coy reply made his erection leap and strain the seams of his trousers.
“The time for protestations is over,” he said. “You’ve been a naughty wench, frigging yourself in my chair. Now every time I sit there, I will remember the sight of your wet, pink pussy, and it will distract me from important matters. In fact, you’ve made me hard right now. As you are the cause of my condition, you ought to be the one to relieve it.”
“Please don’t sack me, sir,” she beseeched. “I’ll doanythingyou say.”
That was Jane to a tee, submissive yet full of cheek. Even as she surrendered to his dominant tendencies, she would tease and challenge him. His pulse was a rapid staccato, his stones tautening at the carte blanche she offered. The invitation to indulge his darker desires.
“Get on your knees in front of me,” he said.
To his depraved delight, she rose from the chaise and knelt in a graceful motion. With her tits bobbing and generous bottom nestled against her heels, her silhouetted profile was the definition of sensuality.
“I am here, sir,” she said meekly. “Kneeling penitently before you.”
“What do you see?”
“Oh, sir. I’m not sure how to describe it.”
“Perhaps you need a closer look.”
He couldn’t resist going to the curtain. He faced her, lining his groin up with her piquant profile. Even though they were separated by the curtain, their merged shadow made it look as if he was standing right in front of her.
“It looks like you have a cricket bat stuffed down your trousers,” she said playfully.
While she may have exaggerated his size, she wasn’t wrong about one thing: he was harder than wood.
“It’s a cockstand, naughty minx. Surely you have seen one before.”
“Not up close. It’s true that I have wicked thoughts about you, but I haven’t had a lover.”
At her bashful confession, a drop of pre-seed leaked from his cock. He gave in to the lust pounding in his veins, reaching for the fastener of his trousers. “It’s time to get a good look, then,” he said. His cock sprang free, and he grunted as he fisted the thick, throbbing length.
“Oh, sir,” she squeaked. “Your member is even bigger than I imagined…and jutting straight at me. What shall I do?”
He pictured Jane on her knees, gazing at him with wide brown eyes. Rimming her plump lips with her tongue like the tease she was. He bit back a groan as more pre-seed wetted his throbbing crest.
“Put your hands on my thighs, Jane.” Her name slipped out, but the fantasy was so enticing he didn’t even care. “You’re to keep them there until I tell you otherwise.”
She positioned her hands so that, in their combined shadow, it looked like she’d done as he instructed.
“Oh, your cock looks fearfully large from this angle. The tip is so thick and wide…and you’re dripping onto the carpet. I do hope the stain comes out.”
Her irreverent wit and commitment to her housekeeper’s role made his lips twitch.
“You talk too much,” he rebuked. “Luckily, I have a remedy for that. Open your mouth and put your tongue out for me.”
Shadowy Jane parted her lips, poking out her tongue to receive whatever he gave her.
“I put the tip of my cock on your tongue.” As he spoke, he positioned his prick to her profile. “It’s a nice resting spot, wet and soft. I push inside, and you take every inch.”
“Mmm hmm.”
