Best secretary - part I.

Nail filing gets old fast. What really satisfies me is working the tension out of my boss's neck and shoulders. He leans back in his chair while my fingers dig into his muscles. Then he catches my wrist, holds it, stares up at me like he’s already decided what comes next. His grip tightens. He doesn’t have to say the words; I know what he wants. I step around the desk, drop to my knees between his spread legs, and reach for his belt. He watches every move. My skirt rides up over the curve of my ass as I lean in, and his hand slides down to rest there, palm full of warm flesh. He squeezes once, slow and deliberate, then guides me forward until my lips brush the front of his trousers. The zipper comes down. I free him, wrap my fingers around the thick heat of him, and stroke once, twice. His head tips back. A low sound leaves his throat. I open my mouth and take him in, tongue flat, cheeks hollowing, working slow and deep until my throat relaxes around him. His hand stays on my ass, fingers digging in every time I swallow. He keeps me there, letting me feel how much he needs this, how much he likes watching his secretary on her knees in the middle of the day. Outside the office the phones ring, papers stack up. In here there’s only the wet sound of my mouth and the steady press of his palm urging me deeper.