Would you dare? - Sex Stories

Would you dare?

... of her bra as another message follows, his growing hunger insatiable. Christ she can almost feel him, his hands caressing her, his mouth and lips dancing over her, his descriptions so vividly explicit. She can barely sit still, squirming against her office chair as the heat grows between her thighs. Responding again, fingers lightly dancing over the keys she teases a response in kind to his wicked words. Her eyes re-read the latest messages, feeling herself drawn into the fantasy that forms upon her screen and plays out in her mind. Ever more stormy eyes glance back out into the office, the added danger of the location only adding to the sheer inappropriateness of the encounter. Only he can have that effect, her rational reason lost to the dark desires that lurk within. He holds the key and she knows she will always be at his mercy, owned in a way that leaves her tingling with excitement. Shuffling loose paperwork upon her desk in a desperate attempt to maintain control of the situation, her screen once more illuminates with another message, his description causing her to gasp. A torrid of explicit words and descriptions leave her on the brink. The angel is now cowering upon her shoulder as the deliciously wicked devil has his way with her. She can feel the desire between her thighs, slick and wet against the lace of her panties. Before she can respond, another message appears. He has her at his mercy, her body beginning to tremble as he lays claim to her. Typing another ...

... response, she can feel herself become more flustered. Usually confined to the privacy of her home, their connection is always so strong. She yearns to touch herself, to trace her fingers and release the simmering pleasure that ripples through her, yet dares not for prying eyes. Crossing her legs beneath the desk she brings her thighs together and squeezes. The pleasurable pressure against her sensitive clit fuels her cravings as yet more explicit words tumble upon her screen. The sudden shrill of her desk phone interrupts her torture, as with a deep breath she answers the call, trying to make the transition from fantasy to reality in a split second. Trying desperately to regain a sense of composure she listens to the caller, almost not daring to breathe in case of letting slip her pent up state. She frantically types a message to indicate she will be right back. But he does not stop. She already knows he wont. Knows he enjoys her suffering and the power his words have over her. She knows that such a message will only urge him on. Another message, more explicit than the last appears on screen, followed by another and another. Her stormy eyes fall upon each post, feeling his every word. His descriptions are evermore vivid and detailed. She can feel her resistance, as feeble as the delicate moist material of her panties, faltering. Trying desperately to act normal, hiding the near breathless need to pant and whimper she imagines him doing those explicit things to her trembling body. ...