Private_Label
In the kink toddler pool
- Joined
- Jun 5, 2005
- Posts
- 1,054
<shiver>
My friend from the other side of the US called me at work today. Thankfully my co-worker was out at lunch when the call came in because my man had to talk dirty to me and make me all hot and bothered. My man, my obsession, my… I would gladly, gladly wear his collar if he would give one to me. I'm his. His slut, his wanton girl, his fucktoy, his slave. His, his, his.
In a matter of minutes, my nipples ache to be mauled by his hands. My body flushes with the heat of desire for him. I fold my arms across my breasts, that way I can fondle my tits behind my elbows and not look like I'm doing anything, should a co-worker or client walk through the door of the main office. I want to play with other areas, but that WOULD get noticed and shortly thereafter, fired.
When the co-worker returned I made my escape to the break room to finish my call during my lunch hour… which was late enough that the other people working in the building had already eaten and left.
I locked the door and closed the venetian blinds. It would not do to have people walking in on me, or seeing through the window, when I had one hand mauling my own breast and the other hand between my legs. >_<
In the secure privacy of the break room, I can give my breasts good hard squeezes, and pinch my aching buds. I can rub my hand across my pussy without fear of offending anyone. I can sit a bit to the side in the chair and rub myself against the corner, wishing it was him between my open legs.
When he tells me to pull my dress up and rub myself through my panties I comply in a rush. I'm such a slut for him. When he asks me to push the panties aside and spank my clit, I do. I pinch the fleshy outer lips together and rub, trying to make myself come for him. I rub harder, listening to him whisper nasty things in my ear, driving me wild with desire, pushing me higher. When he talks about bending me over the table and fucking me hard and fast, I have a minor orgasm.
Then he really gets nasty. He tells me he has been checking up on all the posting I am doing here…
(I blame FurryFury and Betticus for what happens next)
He talks about taking honey and pouring it over my body and eating me. Licking and nibbling, tying me down and tasting me everywhere. Pouring warm chocolate on his cock and feeding it to me.
I cry out for him to mark me. I want him to suck and bite me all over. Leave hickeys and bruises on my breasts and pussy, neck, arms, inner thighs, my lips – both sets… I am such a slut for him.
I can here when he walks into a stairwell on his rounds. His voice becomes a soft whisper as he tells me he is rubbing himself. How he is thinking of how he would fuck me so hard, pulling my ass cheeks apart and pulling me on him by my hips until he was so deep inside his balls would slap my clit.
I am rocking back and forth and pressing my hand so hard against my cunt that I come again.
We talk for a few more minutes, then he has to go… Duty calls.
I'd keep him on the phone with me all afternoon if I could.
45 minutes he was teasing me over the phone… After he hung up, I pulled my dress down – the room smells like sex to me. I crack open the door, then sit back down in the break room. 20 minutes later another co-worker comes in long enough to buy a can of pop from the soda machine, then she is back off to her desk upstairs. It took me more than 45 minutes to recover enough composure to return to work. I thought about him all afternoon. I thought about him while driving home (good thing I can take back roads with little traffic). I am thinking about him now. If he ever asked, I would be on next flight out to be with him.
Because… I'm his fucktoy, cumslut, slave, whore. Only his.
I'm telling you because… I'm not where he is. He can't dress me up all slutty and tart-ish and put a leash on me and walk me through the park, and kiss me hard and maul my ass and breasts any time he wants. You will just have to imagine that he has me in a short plaid skirt, with no panties, a thin white button down shirt with no bra on, that my nipples are hard, and my face is flushed. And if you stand too close to me, you can smell the mix of our cum – and perhaps detect the slight sheen of it between the hills of my breasts, where the shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let you peek.
It's a good thing I am very good at my job, I had all the important stuff done before my lunch quickie.
He was my friend, long before we ever started the on-line and phone calls. I really wish he wasn't 2700 miles away. If I could meet someone locally who would be a friend first then have great kinky sex… too bad none of the guys who have recently contacted me and live in my area have taken me up on meeting at the local munch.
I probably would never get any work done then...
My friend from the other side of the US called me at work today. Thankfully my co-worker was out at lunch when the call came in because my man had to talk dirty to me and make me all hot and bothered. My man, my obsession, my… I would gladly, gladly wear his collar if he would give one to me. I'm his. His slut, his wanton girl, his fucktoy, his slave. His, his, his.
In a matter of minutes, my nipples ache to be mauled by his hands. My body flushes with the heat of desire for him. I fold my arms across my breasts, that way I can fondle my tits behind my elbows and not look like I'm doing anything, should a co-worker or client walk through the door of the main office. I want to play with other areas, but that WOULD get noticed and shortly thereafter, fired.
When the co-worker returned I made my escape to the break room to finish my call during my lunch hour… which was late enough that the other people working in the building had already eaten and left.
I locked the door and closed the venetian blinds. It would not do to have people walking in on me, or seeing through the window, when I had one hand mauling my own breast and the other hand between my legs. >_<
In the secure privacy of the break room, I can give my breasts good hard squeezes, and pinch my aching buds. I can rub my hand across my pussy without fear of offending anyone. I can sit a bit to the side in the chair and rub myself against the corner, wishing it was him between my open legs.
When he tells me to pull my dress up and rub myself through my panties I comply in a rush. I'm such a slut for him. When he asks me to push the panties aside and spank my clit, I do. I pinch the fleshy outer lips together and rub, trying to make myself come for him. I rub harder, listening to him whisper nasty things in my ear, driving me wild with desire, pushing me higher. When he talks about bending me over the table and fucking me hard and fast, I have a minor orgasm.
Then he really gets nasty. He tells me he has been checking up on all the posting I am doing here…
(I blame FurryFury and Betticus for what happens next)
He talks about taking honey and pouring it over my body and eating me. Licking and nibbling, tying me down and tasting me everywhere. Pouring warm chocolate on his cock and feeding it to me.
I cry out for him to mark me. I want him to suck and bite me all over. Leave hickeys and bruises on my breasts and pussy, neck, arms, inner thighs, my lips – both sets… I am such a slut for him.
I can here when he walks into a stairwell on his rounds. His voice becomes a soft whisper as he tells me he is rubbing himself. How he is thinking of how he would fuck me so hard, pulling my ass cheeks apart and pulling me on him by my hips until he was so deep inside his balls would slap my clit.
I am rocking back and forth and pressing my hand so hard against my cunt that I come again.
We talk for a few more minutes, then he has to go… Duty calls.
I'd keep him on the phone with me all afternoon if I could.
45 minutes he was teasing me over the phone… After he hung up, I pulled my dress down – the room smells like sex to me. I crack open the door, then sit back down in the break room. 20 minutes later another co-worker comes in long enough to buy a can of pop from the soda machine, then she is back off to her desk upstairs. It took me more than 45 minutes to recover enough composure to return to work. I thought about him all afternoon. I thought about him while driving home (good thing I can take back roads with little traffic). I am thinking about him now. If he ever asked, I would be on next flight out to be with him.
Because… I'm his fucktoy, cumslut, slave, whore. Only his.
I'm telling you because… I'm not where he is. He can't dress me up all slutty and tart-ish and put a leash on me and walk me through the park, and kiss me hard and maul my ass and breasts any time he wants. You will just have to imagine that he has me in a short plaid skirt, with no panties, a thin white button down shirt with no bra on, that my nipples are hard, and my face is flushed. And if you stand too close to me, you can smell the mix of our cum – and perhaps detect the slight sheen of it between the hills of my breasts, where the shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let you peek.
It's a good thing I am very good at my job, I had all the important stuff done before my lunch quickie.
He was my friend, long before we ever started the on-line and phone calls. I really wish he wasn't 2700 miles away. If I could meet someone locally who would be a friend first then have great kinky sex… too bad none of the guys who have recently contacted me and live in my area have taken me up on meeting at the local munch.
I probably would never get any work done then...
