A soft breeze flutters my pink chiffon skirt up briefly revealing my panties. My wet, soaking panties. It has been nearly a month since Sir has allowed me an orgasm, and I am constantly on edge. Today is no different. I curse the way the wind softly caresses my thighs, lifts my slightly sheer skirt, blowing cool wind on my hot pussy. As if his teasing each morning was not enough. My phone interrupts with a small chime, and upon inspection reveals a pornographic image of a girl in the throes of orgasm.
"Good girls will be allowed to cum."
I don't bother looking at who sent it. There is only one person who could put me through such tortuous teasing. I sigh, languishing. What I wouldn't to have his fingers touch my dripping wet cunt, to slowly ease out my pent up orgasm. To grab my hair and fuck me hard with his thick cock...
Wetness between my thighs reminds me of my urgency and breaks me out of my sensual daydream. I sigh again, sweet suffering, and get up to clean up the mess between my legs. Only good girls are allowed to cum.
______________________________________________
"Open your envelope, inside are your instructions."
"When will this be over?"
"When I am satisfied with your obedience."
I can hear in my head the way he says it, slowly and confidently, commanding and imposing. I open the envelope and scan the pages. My eyebrows arch in surprise, Sir has planned some daring tasks for me today.
Head back to the office, find a quiet spot, and edge yourself 3 times.
I pack up my lunch and make my way back to the office tower. The heat outside is unbearable, my cheeks flushing further from the embarrassment of what I am about to do. I slip into a vacant small teleconferencing booth and close the door behind me. The door has no locking mechanism; I pray to something that no one finds me.
I slip off my demure black pants to find my cunt already moist with anticipation. I begin touching myself, thinking of orgasm, and within minutes am aching for release.