Five simple wordsis all it takes to unravel thirty-four years of self-control.
Show me what you need.
She said that. This innocent girl in worn heels and a thrift store blouse who drew a smiley face on my coffee. She looked at me as I showed her the trap I built, and instead of running, she stood up and offered herself to me.
Christ, after what I’ve done, I don’t deserve her.
But I’m taking her anyway.
“Come here,” I say as I unfasten my belt.
Her eyes drop to my hands as the leather slides through the buckle. The sound of my zipper is loud in the sealed room. Hazel’s chest is heaving in that too-tight blouse, and the buttons are straining over a set of tits I’ve been staring at through the glass all morning.
My cock belongs between them, sliding up and down, a display of what I have in store for her.
I push my pants and briefs down just far enough to pull myself out, and when she sees it, her whole body goes rigid.
My cock isthick, veiny, and pulsing with anger from hours of confinement. It sticks out toward her, already dripping pre-cum from the tip. And the way she stares at it—her mouth open and eyes wide, blush creeping up from her throat—confirms what I already suspected.
She’s never seen one before.
“Oh…” she whispers. That’s it.Oh.
“Give me your hand, angel.”
She does as she’s told and extends her hand, her fingers trembling. I take her by the wrist and bring her palm to my shaft. Her delicate fingers don’t close around my girth. Not even close.
Even if she used both hands, she still wouldn’t cover my length.
“Squeeze,” I tell her. She does. My cock pulses against the smooth skin of her tiny hands, and a bead of pre-cum spills over her thumb.
“Oh my God…” she breathes. “It’s so hot. I didn’t think it would feel like—”
“Stroke it,” I say, covering her hand with mine, guiding her up and down. “Drag the moisture over it. Just like that. Tight. Don’t be gentle with me.”
Her eyes light up, and she pumps me with both hands, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She watches my face with intent, the way she might study a textbook, looking for answers.
She’s a quick learner and eager to please.
“That’s a good girl,” I growl.
Her pupils dilate, and her thighs press together. She’s squirming right where she stands as she keeps stroking me.
That’s right. You love the praise, don’t you?
I file that piece of information away for later.
“Harder.” I grit my teeth as she tightens her fists, stroking me with more force. I show her how to twist the tip but have to grab her wrist and yank her off before I blow all over her blouse.
Panic floods through her face. “Oh my God, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry—”
“Shut up.” I lean in and cradle her jaw with my hand. Her mouth snaps shut, and her big hazel eyes blink up at me with obedience. My cock is absolutely pulsing. “You didn’t hurt me, little girl. You’re gonna make me come too fast, and I’m not done with you yet.”
Grabbing her by the hips, I lift her up and set her on my desk. She squeals one of those startled, girly squeals, and it makes my cock flex and slap against my stomach. I shove my monitor aside, sweeping a stack of million-dollar trade reports to the ground.
“Lean back,” I tell her. “Spread your legs.”
She may be trembling, but she obeys. She’s red from her chest to her hairline, and as she lets her knees fall open, I see them—a pair of white cotton panties with a damp spot in the center that’s so prominent it makes my mouth water.
