All your fault

Daddy was on a business video call when I opened the door to his home office. He had put on a shirt, tie, and jacket to look every bit the boss he was — but below, he wore loose cotton boxers. The sight made me giggle softly. As I watched him play with his billions, a naughty thought crossed my mind: Just how much of a multitasker is my beautiful Aaron? I sashayed into his office, tossing him a nonchalant look when he arched a shapely brow, eyeing me with suspicion.I rounded his desk, dropping to all fours, the cool hardwood beneath me a sharp contrast to the warmth of my skin. Carefully, I avoided the webcam, placing a hand on his knee and nudging him gently — signaling that I wanted space beneath his desk. With a dramatic sigh, he dragged a hand over his face in feigned exasperation, but I could feel the corners of his lips twitching. He rolled his chair back just enough for me to slip underneath, his eyes locking onto mine with a silent challenge. Once I was in place, he rolled back into position, the hum of the laptop now the only sound between us.


Kneeling carefully between his legs, I pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his left thigh, my lips brushing over the sensitive skin. A smug smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I watched goosebumps ripple across his skin.


Settling onto my haunches, I let my hands glide upward along the insides of his thighs, slipping beneath the loose fabric of his shorts. My fingers curled gently as I gave a firm squeeze, eliciting a subtle hitch in his voice as his body betrayed him.


The faint twitch of his arousal sent a wave of satisfaction coursing through me. With deliberate slowness, I withdrew my hands, teasingly avoiding the one place I knew he wanted my touch most.


He slumped back in his chair, his hips shifting closer to me in silent invitation. I muffled a giggle, the corners of my lips curling mischievously. Leaning in, I pressed a lingering kiss to the tip of his growing hardness, savoring the way he cleared his throat, his composure wavering ever so slightly.


A giddy sense of control surged through me, the power I held over him intoxicating. How long would it take before he surrendered completely?


My hands found their way up his thighs again, deliberate and unhurried. Wrapping my fingers around the base of his warmth, I let my teeth graze his glans lightly, eliciting the smallest twitch of reaction. The smooth, silken heat of him felt perfect against my palms. I gave a firm, deliberate squeeze, my glazed eyes fixed firmly on his face.


A slight jerk of his hips told me he felt that... so I did it again. This time, I dragged my tongue over the cotton-covered head of his hardness, savoring the subtle shift in his breath.


My body buzzed with a flood of sensations, each one amplifying the heat pooling between my thighs. Moisture gathered in waves, the anticipation almost unbearable as I reveled in his barely contained reactions.


I was starting to get sticky, the damp heat between my thighs becoming impossible to ignore.


I had just begun to move my hands up and down his length when one of his large hands covered mine. I paused and looked up at him, unsure if he wanted me to stop. The answer came quickly—he tightened his grip over mine, guiding my movements as he used my hands to stroke himself.


A muffled moan escaped my lips despite my efforts to stay silent. I loved it when he took control like this. After three deliberate, powerful strokes, he released my hands and freed himself from the confines of his boxer shorts.


Gripping his hardness at the base, he tapped it gently against my face. I parted my lips, letting my tongue reach out to meet him.


The instant my wet tongue made contact, he thrust forward, filling my mouth in one smooth motion. His fingers tangled in my hair as he took control of my movements, a harsh exhale escaping him as he set the rhythm.


I heard one of his executives ask if he was alright, and I couldn’t help but giggle.


My stoic baby is crumbling.


His hand left my head momentarily, only to pinch my cheeks in silent reprimand, cutting my giggle short.


I tilted my head up to look at him from beneath the desk. His eyes met mine as he lowered his head and silently mouthed, “Shhh.”


In response, I gave him my most innocent puppy-dog eyes before taking him fully in my mouth and sucking him with earnest intent.


I watched his face tighten as he fought to keep his composure, scrambling to turn off his webcam in the middle of the call.


If his length wasn’t currently lodged deep in my throat, I might have laughed outright at his sudden panic.


His head fell back against the chair as his fingers tangled deeper into my hair. He’d stopped actively participating in the conversation, his silence only encouraging me to work him harder than I ever had before.


I had a point to prove.


I had just started lavishing attention on the sensitive underside of his length when he abruptly ended the call. His chair screeched back, and he pulled out of my mouth with a loud, wet pop.


I wiped the saliva from my mouth and chin, my heart racing a mile a minute. His expression was unreadable for a beat, then it twisted into something dark and furious. My heart sank—or maybe it was my coochie, because it mimicked the frantic rhythm of my pulse.


I recognized that look.


“What kind of game is this?” His voice was low, dangerous. “You think this is funny?”


My throat was too dry to answer. I could only stare, a mix of excitement and apprehension freezing me in place.


With lightning speed, he cleared the desk of everything in his way. The angry serpent at his groin led the charge, promising I’d regret ever testing him.


Grabbing me firmly by my underarms, he lifted me effortlessly, flopping me stomach-first onto his desk.


Even though I anticipated the move, I still yelped when his palm came down hard on my backside.


Before I could fully process the sting, he spread my legs wide against the cool surface of the desk. His hand came down again, this time landing directly on my engorged lips and sensitive clit.


A guttural groan tore from my throat, wild and unrestrained. The vibrations rippled through me, tingling all the way to my curled toes. My body responded instinctively, clenching hard as another wave of moisture soaked through my already damp boy shorts.


I felt the heat of his presence withdraw momentarily and heard the unmistakable rustle of fabric. My breath hitched—I knew he was getting undressed.


“Baby...” I hissed.


“I don’t want to hear you right now!” His curt voice cut through the haze, making me whimper softly and bite down on my lip.


My body burned with need, trembling with anticipation. I needed him to hurry, to finish what he’d started.


I barely restrained myself from risking another word, even though every nerve in my body screamed for his attention.


And then—he left the office.


I had just started to writhe in frustration when he returned.


“I see you kept your legs spread for me,” he purred, his voice a velvety caress that sent shivers down my spine.


Before I could respond, his middle finger pressed against the wet crotch of my shorts, pushing the soaked fabric into my love tunnel. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with approval.


He worked the material deeper into me, twisting his finger as I clenched and unclenched around his thick digit. The soft fabric pulled taut against my aching clit, amplifying every sensation.


He paused, holding me on the edge of blissful agony, then slowly withdrew his finger. The cloth followed, sliding out of me millimeter by tantalizing millimeter, dragging along every nerve ending with deliberate precision.


It was exquisite torture. Every inch felt like an eternity, leaving me trembling on the precipice of release.


I thought I might die from the intensity of it.


I wanted him to hurry, to finish me off, but at the same time, I craved every second of this agonizingly slow dance.


What felt like minutes—but was probably only seconds—passed before I felt the faintest tension against my shorts, followed by the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing.


His hands gripped my hips firmly, lifting me just enough for his tongue to take a long, leisurely swipe up my soaked center.


A shiver ran through me as my hands shot out to clutch the edge of the desk, bracing myself for the inevitable. I was ready to be devoured.


But the heat of his tongue vanished, replaced by the cool, unfamiliar sensation of metal slipping inside me.


I gasped, a mix of surprise and disbelief flooding my senses. He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t.


The first vibrations shattered that illusion. They coursed through me, and my body reacted instinctively, clawing at the desk in an attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations.


Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.


He pressed a button, silencing the device, and I whimpered at the sudden absence.


“What’s wrong?” he drawled, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “I thought you wanted to play. Let’s play.”


He moved around the desk to stand in front of me, prying my hands off the edge before flipping me over effortlessly. With a firm tug, he pulled me until my head dangled off the table, perfectly aligned with his proud majesty.


He tapped it lightly against my forehead, smirking as my lips parted instinctively. My mouth opened, eager to take him, but instead, I wrapped it around his balls, sucking gently as my tongue teased them.


“Fuck… my girl,” he groaned, the deep timbre of his voice sending a fresh wave of heat through my body as I juggled his weight in my mouth.


After a few indulgent moments, he withdrew, only to replace them with his length. He slid in steadily, pausing only when he was fully lodged in my throat.


Before I could adjust to the sensation, the vibrator roared back to life inside me.


I groaned helplessly around him, the vibrations coursing through my throat and sending a new ripple of pleasure through him.


“Yeah… like that,” he moaned, his voice breathless with satisfaction. “I love it when you sing on me.”


He repeated the motion, thrusting into my throat while the relentless buzz within me kept my body on the edge. Each wave of pleasure brought another tremor, another mini orgasm.


Finally, he pulled out completely, leaving me gasping for air. My face was soaked with spit, sweat, and tears, my body trembling uncontrollably. I’d lost count of how many peaks I’d hit, each one leaving me more wrecked than the last.


With a deliberate slowness that sent shivers through me, he reached between my legs and removed the vibrator, leaving me momentarily empty and trembling from its absence.


Gripping my hips firmly, he pulled me further down the table, tilting my body so my head was no longer hanging over the edge. His eyes roamed over me, dark with desire, as if savoring the sight of me completely at his mercy.


When he came back around and positioned himself at my entrance, I felt the slow, deliberate pressure of him nudging inside. Inch by inch, he slid his enormous length into me until he was fully lodged, the tip pressing firmly against my cervix.


Leaning over me, he captured my mouth in a heated kiss, his lips and tongue insistent as he began to move. His thrusts started slow and deliberate, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through my trembling body.


He pushed his tongue deep into my mouth, mirroring the rhythm of his strokes. I clung to his veiny forearms, my fingers digging in as I tried to ground myself against the overwhelming sensation.


His movements quickened, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. His breath came in short, ragged gasps against my face, and I felt the tension building in every muscle of his body.


Breaking the kiss, he shifted his focus. His hands slid down to grip my thighs, spreading them wider before pushing them forward, folding me nearly in half as he drove even deeper.


His weight came down on me, his thickness buried to the hilt inside me. His groin pressed flush against mine as he held me completely open, vulnerable to his every move.


He rested his forehead against mine, his body jerking with each deep thrust that kissed the very depths of my womb. His shut eyes and labored breathing told me he was fighting for control.


The last time he lost that battle, I was walking funny for nearly a week.


I wanted him to lose it again.


Watching his face carefully, I gathered every ounce of strength from my Kegel lessons and clenched tightly around him.


His eyes flew open, locking onto mine, and for a moment, something flickered there—sympathy.


A small, almost apologetic smile curved his lips as he whispered, “I’m sorry for what I’m about to do to you. But this... this is all your fault.”


His hands closed around my throat, firm but measured, as the sound of rhythmic claps filled the room.


A light flickered in the back of my mind, dimming with every ragged breath I took. His guttural, animalistic grunts as he powered into me were the last thing I heard before darkness claimed me.


Several earth-shattering orgasms later, I was limp, my body humming with aftershocks. His weight pressed against me, his breaths hot and ragged against my skin, grounding me in the aftermath of the storm he’d unleashed.


As I blinked through the haze, he carefully withdrew, his hands sliding under me to lift me effortlessly. I let out a soft sigh as he cradled me against his chest, the contrast between his earlier ferocity and his current tenderness making my heart ache in ways I couldn’t describe.


He carried me into the bathroom, his steps deliberate and sure. Gently, he set me down, the cool tile beneath me a welcome reprieve from the heat that still lingered in my limbs. With meticulous care, he began to clean me up, his touch light and reverent.


I gazed up at him, my eyelids heavy, already feeling sleep pulling me under. I knew I’d be out long enough for him to return to his business call and finish what I’d interrupted.


But right now, I didn’t care. Right now, I was completely his, body and soul, and that was all that mattered.