"Good, now imagine I'm Enzo, your boss who wants tofuck you desperately. So desperately I fingered you in my office. I kissed you. I want to taste you all over, especially your pussy, just like the asshole Alex did."
My head spins at the mind-bending words.
They twist around me.
The roleplaying is wild, and though it confuses me that he wants to be my boss instead of, say, a movie star or someone objectively fuckable but unattainable, it's something I don't get. But I'm here, ready, and going with the flow.
He slides his hands down my sides, a little too close to my breasts and nowhere near enough.
Last night, I handwashed the lingerie, and I'm wearing it under the black shirt and the A-line skirt. The stupid heels are in my bag, but he will have to deal with my Mary Janes.
He deftly undoes the top button and continues as he whispers.
"I have just called you into my office for a performance review. I have just locked the door, Lola, and I'm walking toward you. The thing is, I have seen how you look at me. You, with your boyfriend at home."
The words are close enough to Enzo's from the night we had dinner that my pussy contracts. "I'm sorry."
"You should be. So, I figured it is time for the review." He slides the shirt from my shoulders. "I will be very thorough. But I need to make sure you're ready for all duties. All of them."
He pulls the shirt from me and closes his mouth over one of my nipples, sucking on it.
Spears of pleasure shoot down to my clit.
Then he shifts to the other, and I'm almost writhing and begging for more.
"It seems you're all perky and ready." He nudges my throat with his mouth as his soft lips close on my skin, and he sucks hard, sinking in his teeth.
The unexpected bite makes me yelp, and the orgasmic sucking sets off tremors deep in my pussy. I want more.
He lifts his head, the throb on my throat continuing in less intense beats as he pushes up the skirt, fingers trailing over my ass, dipping into the cleft, and then he shifts to the front, slipping over the lace, under it, to spread my wetness.
"Supple and primed for the most salacious tasks, Miss Lola."
But this time, he doesn't lick me. Instead, his fingers are like a tongue, stroking against me. He drives them along my folds, stopping to pull, pinch, and twist, each move is unexpected, each move delicious.
And he ignores my clit that aches for him.
Every single sense is focused on what Enzo—Alex—Enzo is doing.
It is borderline torture.
Borderline orgasmic.
I'm full of guilt because somehow, he has me thinking we are at work, and he is Enzo.
The almost-right scent does its work, and I'm even more turned on by the fact that this is wrong, and I'm at his beck and call.
I'm there for him to do what he wants to do. He is in control.
He slides a finger into me. "Just need to check you're tight with your deadlines. I like it. Slick and warm and the perfect environment for all my special tasks."
It is not even dirty, what he is saying, but it morphs into some kind of X-rated shit.
He starts fingering me as he pushes me forward.
My hands go out as my thighs hit the desk.
I land on it, half sprawled, and I'm sure that with his hand at work inside my panties and the metal desk, my lingerie is ruined.
