pressure building again in my core. He reaches one hand down to play with my clit as he fucks me relentlessly. I’m so close again, and when he lowers his head to lick and suck my neck, I’m gone. I buck against him and bite his shoulder through his jacket. He takes two more powerful thrusts and releases inside of me. I feel the thick ropes of his cum, and little shivers of pleasure run through me.
He holds me there, pinned against the wall, with his breath coming in heavy gasps. His cock softens and slips out of me, and I feel his cum run down my thighs. He hands me a handkerchief from his pocket and I tidy up before he escorts me to the car.
I can’t keep my hands off him on the ride home. I squeeze his biceps, massage his chest, and rub his perfect cock through his trousers. Luckily, the problem is mutual. He palms my breasts when we’re stopped at traffic lights and works his hand up my dress when we’re on the freeway. By the time he carries me inside, I’m seconds away from release.
If day 30 had a motto, it would be “some things are worth waiting for.”
I open my desk drawer for the third time today and stare at the small ring box within. I’m excited that the General gave me permission for Caroline’s hand, along with her mother’s wedding ring, but the thought of actually proposing makes me want to throw up. I haven’t had these kind of nerves in years.
Tonight is the night. I’ve been sitting on this ring for a couple of weeks, and it’s time to man up and pop the question. Things with Caroline have never been better. The sex is hot, the conversation is fantastic, and I haven’t had this much fun in years. Did I mention the sex was hot? All I know is I won’t rest easy until she’s my wife.
My toe is tapping so hard my desk is shaking. Time to distract myself with work. I turn to my laptop and open an email from my second in command. It’s a forward and my stomach sinks the second I click on the link and the grainy video starts playing. It’s dark and hard to see, but even without the timestamp I’d know it’s me and Caroline in the alleyway. My bare ass is front and center, pumping away. I can live with that; I’m just glad the jerk never got a good look at Caroline.
Panic isn’t a fun emotion. I’ve tried for years to control it and minimize it, but the feeling that rips through my nervous system right now is primal. I start forming a mental to do list: figure out where this came from, who knows about it, how to delete it, how to make sure Caroline and, God help me, her father never find out about it.
First, I open the original email and read the text from Luther. Bayne - one of the field guys sent me this clip of some action from outside our last cocktail hour. We’re starting an office pool if you want to guess who it is. My money is on the marathoner - look at that rock hard ass.
I’m torn between utter shock at being recorded paired with the relief of realizing nobody knows it’s me. Now if I can just keep it from Caroline.
“Hey babe.” She throws open the door without a knock. “Elaine said you had a few minutes.”
Her face goes white when she sees the screen. I jump from my chair, pull her into my office, and close the door tightly behind her.
“Is that us?”
Honesty is always the best policy. Besides, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see there’s no other way out of this one.
“Yes.”
“Do people know it’s us?” Her face is a blank slate; I can tell she’s trying to process everything.
“No.”
“So it’s not a big deal, right?” I love that she’s an optimist, I really do, but her sunny disposition is rubbing me the wrong way this time.
“Are you shitting me?” I can’t keep from getting loud. “Wouldn’t your father love that? His little girl on the weekend news in some tawdry video clip.” Her old man would kill me if he knew. I’m 99% sure of that.
“Why are you raising your voice at me? It wasn’t my idea to get frisky in
He holds me there, pinned against the wall, with his breath coming in heavy gasps. His cock softens and slips out of me, and I feel his cum run down my thighs. He hands me a handkerchief from his pocket and I tidy up before he escorts me to the car.
I can’t keep my hands off him on the ride home. I squeeze his biceps, massage his chest, and rub his perfect cock through his trousers. Luckily, the problem is mutual. He palms my breasts when we’re stopped at traffic lights and works his hand up my dress when we’re on the freeway. By the time he carries me inside, I’m seconds away from release.
If day 30 had a motto, it would be “some things are worth waiting for.”
I open my desk drawer for the third time today and stare at the small ring box within. I’m excited that the General gave me permission for Caroline’s hand, along with her mother’s wedding ring, but the thought of actually proposing makes me want to throw up. I haven’t had these kind of nerves in years.
Tonight is the night. I’ve been sitting on this ring for a couple of weeks, and it’s time to man up and pop the question. Things with Caroline have never been better. The sex is hot, the conversation is fantastic, and I haven’t had this much fun in years. Did I mention the sex was hot? All I know is I won’t rest easy until she’s my wife.
My toe is tapping so hard my desk is shaking. Time to distract myself with work. I turn to my laptop and open an email from my second in command. It’s a forward and my stomach sinks the second I click on the link and the grainy video starts playing. It’s dark and hard to see, but even without the timestamp I’d know it’s me and Caroline in the alleyway. My bare ass is front and center, pumping away. I can live with that; I’m just glad the jerk never got a good look at Caroline.
Panic isn’t a fun emotion. I’ve tried for years to control it and minimize it, but the feeling that rips through my nervous system right now is primal. I start forming a mental to do list: figure out where this came from, who knows about it, how to delete it, how to make sure Caroline and, God help me, her father never find out about it.
First, I open the original email and read the text from Luther. Bayne - one of the field guys sent me this clip of some action from outside our last cocktail hour. We’re starting an office pool if you want to guess who it is. My money is on the marathoner - look at that rock hard ass.
I’m torn between utter shock at being recorded paired with the relief of realizing nobody knows it’s me. Now if I can just keep it from Caroline.
“Hey babe.” She throws open the door without a knock. “Elaine said you had a few minutes.”
Her face goes white when she sees the screen. I jump from my chair, pull her into my office, and close the door tightly behind her.
“Is that us?”
Honesty is always the best policy. Besides, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see there’s no other way out of this one.
“Yes.”
“Do people know it’s us?” Her face is a blank slate; I can tell she’s trying to process everything.
“No.”
“So it’s not a big deal, right?” I love that she’s an optimist, I really do, but her sunny disposition is rubbing me the wrong way this time.
“Are you shitting me?” I can’t keep from getting loud. “Wouldn’t your father love that? His little girl on the weekend news in some tawdry video clip.” Her old man would kill me if he knew. I’m 99% sure of that.
“Why are you raising your voice at me? It wasn’t my idea to get frisky in
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