Named and Shamed by C. P. Mandara

orgasm, Marianna. Failure will result in a forfeit of my choosing. I will, of course, be watching.'
    Tranquillity, calmness and serenity flew out of the window and took a fifty-story dive to the ground below. Mark had entered the office silently and not bothered to close the door. Seating himself at his desk, he gave her a wide grin and pointedly looked at his watch. Marianna's breath caught in her throat and the damp patch on her dress, if possible, managed to get even bigger.
    Mark returned his attention to the computer in front of him and the sound of his agile fingers tapping away in earnest could be heard.
    Marianna's initial response was panic. The door was open and anyone could walk in. Yes, it was early, but there was always a chance of discovery. He'd done it on purpose. Still, what did that matter? He owned her body for at least the next three years, and she was his to do with as he pleased. It was clear the man wanted to play. Well, that was just fine with her. If his eyes weren't all over her at the end of the upcoming show she'd eat her panties. Er... actually she'd have to eat someone else's panties, but that was by the by. Focus Marianna, focus.
    Standing tall and straddling the chair between her lithe legs, Marianna began to delicately pull her dress upwards. Sliding the material up her body, inch by inch, cradling her breasts seductively as the fabric moved higher, she slowly revealed a pair of black lace stocking tops and the tips of a black suspender belt. Mark didn't even spare a glance at her. How flattering.
    Bunching the fabric of her dress up and pulling it over her head, she figured she might as well have a good time. It looked like it was going to be feast or famine in the orgasm department, so she'd better to make hay while the sun shined. The dress sailed to the floor with a single flick of her wrist.
    Closing her eyes, she raised supple arms above her head and stretched out cat-like, allowing her breasts to thrust forward. Bringing her right arm down elegantly, she brought two fingers to her lips and slowly dragged them into her mouth. Sucking on them, like the sweetest of lollipops, she used her tongue to liberally coat them in saliva. Turning her fingers sideways, as if to save the precious, lubricating drops from harm, she traced an anfractuous path down her body and let her hips move from side to side, as if to ease the path of her slippery digits as they moved lower, towards the burning heat of her core. If this was the way Matthews wanted to play, so be it. She was just going to appreciate the chance to chase a couple of endorphins. She was to orgasms as a fish was to the sea. Addicted to the act, delirious in its presence and fully aware of the pleasure her body could give and receive. When her fingers reached her clit she rubbed furiously. Already aroused, this was an act that wouldn't take long.
    Even though his eyes were not upon her, he observed Marianna discreetly, out of the corner of his eye. Her naked body was as fragile as it was delicate. She had not been eating properly, if the sharp definition of her ribcage was any indication. He would see to that. Watching those big green eyes close, he itched to make her open them again. Closing your eyes, in his book, was cheating. He stifled the instinct. He'd let her do as she pleased this one time; God only knew she'd probably earned it. He'd turned the pressure up and she was dealing with it in the best way she knew how. As of yet, she hadn't disappointed.
    Her long, fuchsia-pink nails scraped down either side of her naked labia, before delving between the folds and letting them tease her inner flesh with the gentlest of caresses. Dipping them inside her pussy, she groaned aloud as the move caused her hips to gyrate. Steadying herself with one hand on the back of the wooden rocking chair, she used the other to finger her already engorged clit to the best of her ability. Even though she knew it was not the case, she imagined Mark's eyes