“Can you be a good girl for me, Jennifer?” he asked his voice thick with cajoling charm. He smiled as she blushed and lowered her eyes. Morgan caught her chin with his finger and lifted it, forcing her to look at him. His hazel eyes searched the liquid green of hers for her answer. He’d found everything he’d needed to know about her in their depths, this was no different. Jennifer belonged to him, body and soul and he reveled in that fact.
“Can you do everything I ask of you, Jennifer? Even though it may make you blush?” She nodded gently, and her face darkened again with color as if on queue. “Such a good girl,” Morgan praised as his finger stroked the soft skin of her cheek, holding her gaze.
Morgan turned from her and walked slowly to his desk of dark mahogany leaving her standing alone in the center of his office. He could see the look of confusion on her face and he smiled knowingly, leaning casually onto the front corner of his desk.
“I want you to take off your clothes for me, Jennifer. All of them. Right now. Can you do that for me baby?” He stroked his goatee gently with his fingers as he watched her, noting that she nodded in acquiescence, but made no move to begin.
Jennifer looked at Morgan for a long moment, trying to swallow her shyness. When she tried to lower her eyes he snapped his fingers, letting her no it was unacceptable and she returned them to his.
“Why shouldn’t I,” she thought as she felt her pulse quicken and her body flush with a wave of warmth brought by his gaze as it traveled down her body, knowing he’d already begun with his mind what he had asked of her. “But we’re in his office… of all places… his office… what if…” If she thought of all the “what ifs” she’d never be able to obey; she wanted so badly to please him.
“Jennifer. If I have to ask again… it won’t go well for you. You’re not going to make me have to punish you baby, are you?” Morgan’s tone was suddenly no nonsense, but still filled with that cavalier charm. His voice a deep timbre, strong and confident; the voice of a man accustomed to having his way, not often disappointed.
Jennifer felt suddenly ashamed of her shyness, her little insecurities, and with trembling fingers began to release the buttons of her blouse carefully. She could feel her heartbeat in her fingers and after looking down for just a moment at them, she returned her gaze to his, her eyes filled with their usual confidence, glistening proudly as she bared her shoulders, the black silk falling away from them and down her arms.
Morgan chuckled and nodded approvingly, his eyes not leaving her breasts, still held captive in the black lace of her bra. He could see them heaving deliciously with her every breath and his cock sprang to life beneath the trousers of his suit.
Having shed her blouse and skirt, her bra, Jennifer began to unclasp the straps of her garters, intending to remove her black stockings and her high, strappy heels.
“No Jennifer… leave them,” she heard Morgan say from across the room. Jennifer smiled to herself; Morgan loved stockings and garters on a woman. She leaned up and looked at him, feeling Morgan’s eyes carefully inspecting every movement. She stood there before him arms at her sides… fingers gently clenching and releasing, unsure of what to do with them. She felt the tawny pink buds of her breasts harden and the slow ache of need filled her. Jennifer’s body began to respond. She felt her nether lips swell, her tender clit throb between them, her sheath moisten… readying herself for him.
Jennifer looked at him now, ruggedly handsome in his double breasted suit, always precise in his appearance. She felt keenly vulnerable standing there in all her naked glory. Her eyes fighting off glances to the door, sure she was hearing someone ready to enter the office at any moment, an occasional telephone ring breaking up the eerie silence inside the closed room.
Sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the outer wall of Morgan’s office, catching her eye, “Morgan.... the win…” The blinds where open to the summer day and Jennifer knitted her brow wondering who could be watching from the adjacent high-rise office buildings.
“Never mind the windows Jennifer,” he cut her off. It positively thrilled him to think someone might be watching them.
He slid off the edge of his desk and walked before her, close enough she could feel his breath on her face, smell his cologne, and feel his heat. When she looked into his eyes she felt like prey before a lion, overpowered by his nearness and his feral look. As always her desire to please him and to seek her own pleasure in his primal masculinity overwhelmed her, her body responding in kind to his obvious arousal.
She reached up with her fingers to begin to undress him, thinking of loosening his tie but before she could even touch him, Morgan had her wrists in his grasp, firm, but not squeezing. He meant to remain clothed, and to leave her exposed before him. Jennifer slackened her arms and he released her.
He reached out to her, twisting a finger into her waves of shoulder-length chestnut hair and tugged, signaling her to her knees before him. Jennifer raised a brow in question of his lordly manner only to find Morgan’s fingers now fisted in her hair forcing her to her knees.
She looked up at him, the defiance in her eyes of a moment ago, replaced by obedience and acquiescence to another’s will… Morgan’s will. This thing between them, this sexual energy that they had discovered long ago had never faded with time; it had thrived with their nurturing. Their love had only spurred it on, fueling the intimacy that came easily to them. Jennifer reached with her hands and ran them up his thighs, feeling the lean muscle of Morgan’s legs as she leaned into him, her eyes shining with love as they met his. But there was something else in that love… hunger, a base instinct to please this dominant male, HER dominant male, and she indulged it in with gusto.
“Such a good girl…” Morgan said as he grinned down at his baby girl, kneeling obediently at his feet. “Now undo my belt Jennifer, and my trousers.” He stroked her cheek absently as he watched her set about doing as he instructed.
Morgan had never considered himself sexually dominant until this woman. He had supposed now that it had been there, hidden somewhere under what he believed was acceptable, but had never been realized. She had sought that out in him, but never asked. She prompted him with her pleas and her soft little whimpers. Jennifer’s erotic femininity and her subtle transference of sexual power to him drove him wild. He loved her raw sexuality and her tenderness. He savored most however, that they were at home together in any situation, any mood. Their appetites suited each other perfectly, from the most tender lovemaking to encounters like this lust-filled tryst. Tonight he would pull her to his chest and she would tuck herself into his warmth, pressing her bottom against him in tender offering and after they made love… she would curl into him falling asleep together.
