What If...?

Disclaimer:

Though this story bears some resemblance to real elements of my life, there is no intention to represent a real episode, either that has occurred or that I want to occur. Fantasies are just fantasies. Not all of them should ever become realities.

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I've got that damned feeling again. Itchy and hot. Like I might do something a little crazy soon. Hot, dark images of rough sex slither up from some feral part of my brain. Definitely unrelated to the ordinary work on my desk. Disjointed, they're guiltily savored and pushed aside. But there's always more. Everywhere I look, there seem to be temptations to resist. They chip away at my resolve. My mind provokes me with the games I could play, if only.... What if I let go?

As I sit listening cynically to another long bitch session called an office team meeting, I drift, watching those debauched images. Visions flood through me of leather and sweat, a rock hard man being teased, punished, and rewarded. My eyes widen, staring down at my laptop, dilating to black circles. My lips part, sucking in a silent hiss of desire. I absently bring up my hand to nip the pad of my thumb. I'm so hungry to play. It's not like me to not do what I want. The tension eats me up. What if...? I drift away again....

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My prey, you are working unusually late in the evening when I walk in, unannounced, and shut your office door behind me.

I flip the tie on my soft black leather trench and the edges swing apart as my round hips sway. My long legs in black fishnet stockings, a black leather garter belt trimmed in silver studs pulls low on my hips, lethal-looking shiny black boots slide up past my knees, silver metal stiletto heels punctuate each measured step, as I stalk toward my target across the worn office carpeting. Black leather gloves run out from under the sleeves of the coat but end at my hand with a single soft loop around my middle finger. A heavy silver band of links stretches taut around my neck, glinting ominously with power, a small S-shaped serpent charm dangling off-center.

You're shocked, looking up from your screen, but not too surprised it seems. You stand and put one hand up as if to ward me off. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. This has always been a possibility of our too-tempting games. I hear you mutter, "Ohh, damn."

I'm hot and tormented, beyond ready to bring things to a head. Even under those bright office fluorescents, I'm going to do what I've just stopped myself from doing so many times.

As I reach you standing across the room, the window blinds close with a snap of my wrist, but my direct stare never leaves yours, serious, intent, as conflicting expressions sail across your face. Now I reach forward a full arms-length. You stare back at me, fascinated, wanting badly what's about to happen. How far will you let it go?

My hand slips under that tie, across your tense chest. My knuckles brush you and we both feel the flare of hot desire. It's the closest we've been physically and the electricity sparks between us. I savor the moment, fondling that tie.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My eyelids flutter, staring unseeingly at my lap. Damn, damn, I've wanted to grab that tie for so long, such an ordinary sight, but such a tempting invitation for a woman like me. Men's ties and belts entice me in the same way. They're everywhere – tempting, convenient hand holds. But a silky, masculine power tie on an attractive man, tied neatly, laying just so. Good lord, that teases me to distraction. My little secret need. My glance flits to the silken tie, sitting across the meeting table now. Only the shreds of my honor have kept me from it for so long.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next step down this road, so easy – that tie.

I yank you forward and down, off balance, into my space, with your ear near my lips. "Enough thinking," I whisper into your ear. My lips linger at the edge where your ear meets your neck.

My tongue snakes out to test and enjoy the feeling of power I feel. My hand wrapped around that seductive tie. My shoulders draw you down and forward. Submit or resist? Uncomfortably, off-balance, you sway back and forth with each indecisive thought. What if? I can see it in your face. What if you could have what you need?

"This is your last chance to say no. Say it now. I'll give you this one last chance to stop. After this, you'll be my sex toy – my toy – as long as I desire it." I turn my palm down on your chest, shove you back into your leather swivel chair. You open your mouth, all the objections on your tongue, but nothing comes out. I tilt my head and stare, waiting.

I've passed beyond those objections myself. You stare back, taking in the full picture of our situation. My lips slowly lift at one side, a wicked grin to myself, as no words are spoken. My breathing deepens as the moment stretches, the air getting heavy and thick. My eyes dilate to huge dark circles. I'm imagining how delicious this is finally going to be.

Finally, I turn deliberately away and shrug the trench coat off, fragrant with perfume and the scent of body-warmed leather, dropping heavily across your lap and over your arms that are clutching your chair. Without the coat, the skin-tight black leather bustier I'm wearing is revealed. From behind, all you can see of the bustier are the shiny silver hooks running up the back. You notice now that the supple black leather gloves hug my arms far past my elbows.

My long boots bend and massage my legs with the murmur of leather as I sway back to the door, flip the light switch down, and click the lock. I shove a heavy wooden chair against the door with a thunk, wedged tight under the knob. I smile, cynically, that you're safe now with me.

Turning, I reveal pink nipples jutting up over the double row of tight leather laces, cinching in the bustier top so my breasts nearly spill completely over the top, as a thin strap of leather halters the top behind my neck.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A colleague blares on about the problem and all the ways she sees it, without ever suggesting a solution. Most around the table nod sympathetically. Sheep! I cross my legs and arms, lean back and squeeze my thighs together. My brain flashes an image of a sweaty, tense, very male body, pleading for sexual relief at my feet. My pussy clenches rapidly several times. It feels delicious. Just for a while, I'll enjoy the temptation of my wild distractions. What harm can there be in considering what it would be like to let go?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Your eyes follow me, expectantly, through the dimmed office. I walk back to you, but stop at your file cabinet, sliding open the second drawer down to pull out a thin black USB cord about 3' long. Laughing to myself about how long I'd wanted to do this. I'd watched you put it there months ago.

I pull it through my fists, satisfied, and snap it once, staring through it at you. "Oh, I'm definitely going to enjoy this. I deserve to enjoy this, and if you please me, I will definitely reward you. But if you do not...I'll make sure you pay for it."

My bare pussy lips are so wet they slide smoothly and drip onto my thighs as I walk. How many days have I had wet panties at the office from thinking of exactly this kind of scene? Now, I can feel my clit swelling well beyond normal. This is what I've needed, already it's better than I expected.

I spin your chair, pull your biceps back, sliding my hands down to your wrists. No resistance this time. You let me have my way. I purr with pleasure, my clit thrums once more. Once the cable is cinched tightly around those wrists. I admire my work from my viewpoint behind your chair. Still silent, so unlike you, you are breathing very hard. You must be wondering what's next.

I lean forward to your ear again and trail my nail around it and down your neck. My hands wrap around your neck firmly from behind, but apply no serious pressure. "You please me so far, toy." My voice is raw, breathy and determined.

I push your head to the side and bite my way down your neck to your shirt collar. No, I won't mark you, yet, as long as you don't displease me. I run my hands up over your lips, your eyes, your hair and back down again, just because I can, to feel the power of it. I pull your chin up and back until you are looking straight up at me past the tips of my nipples. I revel in the feeling of possession. This is what I was born to do.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Someone arrives late for the meeting, causing me to have to make room at the table. As I come back to myself, I see you glance quizzically my way. Lost in my decadent thoughts, I've not been acting my usual political persona. I toss you an absent-minded private wink, but settle into position to descend back into the delicious scene I'm painting. Your probing messages on my laptop go unanswered. I think to myself that I should really write the story down later for my own enjoyment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I step in front of your chair and lean down to your ear once again, my breasts just below your chin, my hair caresses the side of your cheek, smelling of sinful womanly perfume.

"Tell me you want to be my toy." Your mouth opens with a strangled noise, that might have been an "I". Your hard breaths blow across my cleavage. I reach down deep between your legs and slide my nails slowly, firmly back up the bulge I find there. I want to own this for my own pleasure.

"Yes?," I taunt. Your breath is really sucking in and out, you must be getting light-headed by now.

"Please," your voice raspy, choked. "I want to be your toy, please." You hiss out that last begging plea, convincingly. Your response detonates inside me. My stomach muscles clench hard as my pussy rocks with another hard series of spasms. I reach up to grab your chin, hard (I can't hold back the aggressiveness), and stare into your eyes, painful need there. For both of us.

My voice hard. I bite out, "You. Please. Me. Toy."

I slide back onto your desk in front of your chair, leaning back, my ass perched on the edge. My long legs lift up onto your shoulders and link behind your neck as you lean forward.

"Down! Let's see what else you can do for me, toy." My legs pull your face down to my drenched, bare crevice below a broad V patch.

I watch you, my eyelids half-closed, as you start to work. My thighs tense as your tongue slides up past my button and back down, tentatively at first, but over and over. My head rolls back and my thighs squeeze your head in closer. I reach forward to rest my hand on the warm nape of your strong neck, pressing you closer

I'm getting off knowing that you are in my power – my toy, perhaps I'll even call you my pet, if you're that good. I hope you are. And then, you start sucking rhythmically on my clit. Your teeth skim along the bottom. Electric sparks explode all through my crotch and sizzle out through my body. I'm not even aware of my own harsh panting and moans. My pussy canal, all the way up to my abdomen, clench over and over, getting stronger with each spasm, until I crash over the edge into a luscious breathless orgasm. So fast and long.

"Fuck...oh FUCK!" My stiletto heels dig in to your back, grinding you into my wet slit while I writhe on your desk. Son of a bitch, why didn't I do this sooner?

I'm panting hard, but still tense and ready for much more. "Nice! But not nice enough, toy. I have other ideas." I push your face away with one stiletto planted in the front of your shoulder, admiring the shine of my juices on your chin.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Our boss starts outlining her beliefs about the "serious" problem that the group has been admiring now for thirty wasted minutes. I rouse myself from my luscious pastime to smile and nod for her benefit. I pretend to take notes. You glance at me, knowingly. Shall I make a suggestion, perhaps offer to solve the problem? Screw it, I decide to slip back into my wicked daydreams, flipping you a secretive smile. I wedge my warm laptop tighter into my crotch, imagining....

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I grab your tie again and pull you up. You struggle to rise with your hands still tied behind your chair. With my help, you make it to your feet. I grab the back of your neck and squeeze you forward to lick those velvet juices off your stubbled chin. "I like that rough chin shoved into my pussy while you lick my clit. Don't forget that, toy."

I loosen your tie, pulling your collar out from under it, unbuttoning your shirt all the way down, and tugging your shirt out of your waistband. The tie can stay – so convenient.

With your shirt out and open, I stop and look you in the eye. You look down. "Good, pet," I purr, running my fingertips along and just under the top edge of your waistband. Your stomach twitches, your head rolls back, a growl in your throat, your crotch pumps forward. Running my hands up your torso, I pinch your nipples, firm and fast, on the way by, making you jump a bit. "Silence, toy, and hold still," I murmur, with a soothing lick and suck to both nipples.

Opening your shirt wide, I lightly rub my nipples in little circles over your rough chest. The leather and laces of my bustier slither against your belly. My bare cleft presses wetly against the front of your pants – that'll leave a mark, I chuckle to myself.

I yank that shirt down your arms, leaving it bunched around your tied wrists. Yesss, this is what I've wanted to see and touch – wide round masculine shoulders. My hands roam freely across them and then shove those shoulders down to the floor, down on your back. You struggle to lay on your bound wrists, pulling them to one side.

I step up so my long legs are straddling your heaving dark-haired chest. "Look at me, pet."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I almost wish this meeting wouldn't end. In these yearning moods, when I get so tied into knots by my own restless, unfulfilled desires, I hate the feeling of losing control. Hate the violent need that wells up with no total release. But I love the thrilling electric edge I'm pushed to. I glare hotly and secretly across the table, eyes half-averted. Far too dangerous to risk pulling you into this haze with me. I slip back into myself....

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You look up my body, your eyes dark with lust, and up into my eyes, until I'm captured myself for a moment in the most intense stare, searing dark laser eyes. We're not messing around now. This is damned serious for both of us. Exactly what we've needed deep down, in our own ways, but both presumed would never be available to us. We both know the experience is stolen, selfish, and terribly satisfying.

"There's so much more I'm going to get from you," I promise with a touch of threat.

I step up your body and turn around past the top of your head, facing your feet. Lowering to my knees, my boots bracketing your head, I lay my dripping snatch once again over your mouth. "More," I demand. Your tongue works up and down past that fiery bundle of nerves again, over and over, rhythmically. "Flick my clit with your tongue every time you go past it," I command just what I want.

I'm dripping again and you struggle to breathe while working on my slit. I grind my slit on that rough chin about every third pass of your tongue, pressing your nose into my wet, wet hole. I slide my palms down your chest, pulling your belt loose, unbuttoning, unzipping, and yanking down your trousers to mid-thigh. Your hips writhe to help me.

Finally! The head of your beautiful cock (or should I call it "my" beautiful cock?) is caught – the head rising out of your briefs. I sit back admiring the beauty of it pinned down and twitching, glowing an engorged rose color. I keep my hands distracted from petting that tempting manhood just yet by fondling and pinching your nipples, so taut, running my nails through the crisp hair on your chest surrounding them.

My clit is wildly throbbing. "I want more," I say again, lifting off your determined mouth. I lean forward, giving you access to view my swollen labia from behind, and blow on that engorged head.

My hands hold onto your hips to balance my weight with my thumbs pressing into your groin to hold you immobile. I blow again hard, and you whimper. Your hips push up into my weight. Your erection twitches and I'm impressed with how strongly it lifts that tight band. So many games I want to play.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My crossed leg has fallen asleep and I shift in my chair to find a more comfortable position. I feel my wetness soaking out. It occurs to me it's a damn good thing I wore underwear today for a change. Just a slender lacy thong, but it will save me another dry cleaning bill. I'm getting irritable and restless. My unsatisfied needs, throbbing and sore, like a festering bear-paw. Someone pushes a box of donuts down for the third time. I grin, and slide the box across the table to stop in front of your notes. Might as well have a donut, my toy, I think sarcastically. Ahh, but what if, you could have more than just donuts?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My greedy clit throbs for another release. I turn around over you, kneeling across your belly now, and notice my juices all over your face again. I smile as I lean forward, "You've been exceptional, pet. I like how you apply yourself to your chores."

I inhale the musky smell of sex on you and lick, bite, and rub the juices off with my mouth, lips, tongue, jaw, reveling in the naughtiness and hotness of the experience. More, more, more, like a drug. The thought drifts through my mind. Your eyes are closed and you push your jaw up into my mouth. I nip your lips and suck them until they swell, tingling.

My toy cleaned up, I move on to more pressing needs. My pussy has been rubbing the crisp hair on your belly, keeping me near another peak. "Lift your hips!" Reaching back, I tug your briefs down to join your trousers.

Your cock bounces up and holds rock-still above your crotch. The sight of it over my shoulder makes me feel wild and forceful, randomly violent. But I turn to relieving the pressure that is building in my pussy beyond anything I've ever experienced, sharp and painful.

"Do not move!," I assert in a tone that warns of consequences. "Not a muscle. Understand?!" You nod, clenching your jaw. "Understand?," I taunt again. "Yes. I understand," you say, clearly, but you look doubtful. I lift my hips and slide them down to hover over your member. I can tell you want to lift your head to look, but I'm watching closely and you heed my warning.

"Good so far," I lilt, almost crazy myself with pent-up need, but I grapple with myself for control.

I lower slowly and carefully until my slit settles along the length of your swollen cock. My pussy lips begin sliding slightly against your hot, satiny shaft. Your eyes close and you swallow hard, but your eyes quickly fly to mine. You were expecting to slide that cock into my warm cunt, I see, just like that. For a second, I enjoy your surprise with a wicked half-grin.

I lean forward, never losing contact with your dick, to suspend my nipple just above your lips, just out of reach. Tantalizing, "Suck it." I tease your pursing lips with light brushes of my nipple before yanking it just out of reach again. You take the bait. Straining, you lunge forward and catch the bud in your lips, but it slips away again. "Use your teeth," I demand. You try again. This time, catching it and scraping the sensitive tip before having to lower your head. I begin alternating the nipples for you to repeat the abrading suction.

I continue to rock my slick button back and forth against your confined rod, teasingly, moving just a little, but it's plenty for my tormented and inflamed bud. Every muscle in my body is tensing, barely moving. My mind is almost totally focused on maximizing the reaction about to explode through my body. For me, the experience is heightened tremendously by your obedience to ignore, deny the temptations of your body.