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"Hurry. Now."
"Right now?"
"Yes, now. Yes."
"Beg. Submit."
I looked up at the word and I knew you knew I wanted to agree to this. I knew you knew that I love the idea of this.
"Fuck me. Please. Take me. Please fuck me."
"Fuck you or make love to you?"
The gear shift threw me and I felt like I was looking through a haze -- the haze of the very angry or the very emotional.
I squinted and your eyes were dilated with more than the heat of the moment.
"Love me. Oh please. Just love me now."
You didn't answer and I felt my heart in my throat.
But you charged into me; like your first kiss. I could only open and receive your challenge, meeting you but not beating you. The accelerated friction and the sensation of your cock pounding into drove me to the edge and over. I came around you and distantly I heard you follow me when the orgasm hit my thighs and you had to grasp my ankles hard to keep them at your shoulders. I felt your teeth bite into the arch of my foot, softly, yet firmly and I hit it again, crying out and turning and twisting and tugging your tie while letting loose just another howl for your neighbors to call about this morning.
And you know, while I am sitting here at my desk dripping, I kind of hope you are worried your boss will notice you are wearing the same tie today that you wore yesterday. I bet it's curling up on you, keeping the same things I am thinking about this afternoon just a little bit more present in your mind.
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