You Always Come First

I push open the door of your office, standing in the entryway, hands on my hips. "Thought you were gonna take me to lunch," I comment testily.

You glance up at me, noting that I'm in mega-bitch mode and you'd best tread carefully. "Sorry. Things got crazy here. Armstrong left a huge load of work for me this morning," you say, waving your hand at the stacks of folders piled on your desk.

"And this is my problem because...?"

You gulp before adding, "You know you come first."

"That's why you left me waiting alone at the restaurant. Because I come first." I begin tapping the toe of my kidskin high-heeled slingback pump. You know you're in trouble when my toe starts tapping like that.

"Look," you sputter, "I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you--"

"Damn straight you'll make it up to me."

"Tonight."

I cross your office in five steps to tower over you as you sit at your desk. "Screw that! You'll be making it up to me now." Without any regard for your work, I brush aside all the folders piled there and sit on your desk, placing each foot on an arm of your chair. My hand caresses aside the front of my sarong-styled skirt, baring my lace panties to view. "Strip," I command.

You nod, then raise your hands to your tie.

"Not this," I say, leaning forward to pull you by the necktie. "Everything but this."

You nod again, then unbutton your shirt, pulling the collar out from under the tie without disturbing it. I moan -- a low, throaty sound -- as your chest appears. My right foot steps on your knee, then travels along your inner thigh. The toe of my pump nudges the growing bulge in your trousers.

"I see something's come up," I coolly remark, my toe gently grinding against your arousal.

"Damn, you make me hot," you whisper.

"Tell me."

"You're a fucking goddess!"

"And what is the proper way to treat a goddess?"

"Fuck her silly on my desk?" you ask, a little too eagerly.

"Try again," I say, then add, "and lose the pants."

I smile appreciatively at your glorious body as your trousers fall to the floor. Even the tie can't completely hide your erection from my sight. You suggest, "How about I lick you dry? And then make you wet all over again?"

"I do come first, don't I?"

"Always," you agree with a grin.

Your fingers brush up my thighs, past the lace-trimmed silk stockings. You begin to toy with the clasps of my garters. "Ah, ah!" I warn, brushing your hands aside. "You're the only one getting naked today."

"Ever your faithful priest, willing to worship his goddess in any way she sees fit."

"That's better. Now get sucking!" I command, pulling you by the tie so that your face is mere inches from my cunt.

You brush aside the crotch of my panties, baring my shaved pussy. "Mmmmmmmmmm," you sigh, before diving in to your feast. You always know exactly what to say and do to make me squirm in anticipation.

"Perhaps you should offer a prayer to your goddess?"

"Mmmmmmm," you sigh once more, "so beautiful. God, I adore you!" Your tongue slowly licks up my slit, teasing me into ecstasy. My fingers tangle in your hair, pushing your face further into my crotch. Your muffled voice sighs again, the sound stifled by my clit.

My back arches, my head falls backward as a wave of pleasure engulfs me. Lazily I open my eyes and notice the intercom on your desk. I manage to reach over to it, without you realizing, and press the button to transmit your voice out to the reception area.

"Mmmmmmmm, you taste so sweet!"

"You love to suck my pussy, don't you?"

"God, yes!"

I have to keep from giggling, knowing that soon your whole office will be listening to you as you pleasure your goddess. As your tongue continues to lick me, I quickly lose the desire to laugh.

You plunge a finger into my pussy as you gently bite my clit. Another frenzied wave of pleasure surrounds me. "God, oh god, ohmymotherfuckinggodinheaven!!!!" I cry, my body spasming in orgasmic rapture.

"That's right. Prove you're my profane goddess by talking dirty to me."

"Holy shit!" I yelp, while your tongue quickly flicks across my clit. I writhe, at turns wanting escape or release; but you'll have none of it, using your hands to keep me in place while you continue to pleasure me.

You look up at me, an innocent expression coloring your features. "More?"

"Goddammit, YES!!!!" I scream.

Your tongue pushes inside me, swirling around and making me ache to feel your cock in its place. Your fingers tantalize my clit as your tongue continues its incursion into my most secret realms. "Oh, jesusfuckingGOD!!!" I yell, my body shuddering in bliss.

You stand, taking me in your arms. As you kiss me you whisper, "Can you taste yourself on my tongue and in my beard?"

"Mmmmmmmmm, yes!"

"Have I done enough to make up for my impertinence? To worship you like the goddess you are?"

"I'd say your performance was sufficient... for now," I agree. "But I have a feeling you'll need to do something more tonight."

I rise from your desk and smooth my skirt into place. As you reach down to retrieve your pants -- your back to me -- I switch off the intercom. Once we're both more or less fully dressed, I give you a kiss. "I should let you get back to work," I say, a hint of melancholy in my tone.

You nod, adding, "I'm glad you're so understanding."

"I do try," I reply. "But you can tell that bastard Armstrong," I comment as I reach for the door, "next time he drops a pile of shit on your desk, he'll have me to answer to."

You give me a wink and say, "Dinner at my place tonight?"

"As you wish," I purr.

"And I get to be in charge?"

"Anything you want... Daddy."