Amanda

He did then, his body tensed and stiffened, he screamed. It was a hoarse, guttural sound, half choked... for a moment he held suspended, his hand squeezing roughly, milking the last of the viscous white fluid from his member. It spilled onto his hand, onto the surface of the desk... his body shook with the force of orgasm and he groaned as it released him, at long last. He fell back, relaxing but still twitching every now and again.

She sat there. She watched. And she stared at the small, white splatter of his cum where it had landed next to her hand on the desktop. Slowly she moved, and wiped up the spot with her finger. Eyes flickered over him where he lay limp in the thrall of a lethargic afterglow. She desired... lusted, envied... and needed some piece of him.

Because he refused to give.

Slowly she brought the finger to her mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste, to take in the droplet. Quick as lightning though, he was there, grabbing her wrist and nearly breaking it with the force of his grasp. He held it there, suspended just before her mouth.. She looked up and pleaded.

"Dave?"

"That," he snarled again, growling through clenched teeth. "Belongs... to Amanda..."