Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
I stare out the wall of windows into Manhattan. I don’t even care if someone can see me. All I see is Chastity. I brace myself on one locked arm, the cool glass against my palm as my other hand squeezes and runs up and down my shaft.
Gritting my teeth, I try with all my willpower to drag my thoughts away from her. I have to move on, I have to forget how much I want to make her scream my name.
A surge of desire runs from my balls to the head of my cock, and I quicken my pace.
Good girl. Make Daddy feel good, baby. That’s your job…
Spread your legs. Wider. Let me in…I’m sorry it hurts…
I imagine how tight she is. Her little cries as she takes my huge cock for the first time. Nails raking down my back as pleasure takes her, and a moment later it takes me, my hot seed finding its home inside her. Marking her. Teaching her. Controlling her. Breeding her.
“Fuck.”
And just like that, I’m back in reality. It’s the sharp pain of a leg cramp that does it, dissipating the hazy pleasure of my orgasm like a cloud of smoke. I’ve been tensing every muscle in my body, so lost in the fantasy of fucking her every five minutes.
My dick and balls still ache. I’m not even close to satisfied. Nothing I can do with my hand could come close to the real thing. Furious at myself, I shove my still-hard dick in my pants and grab a few tissues from the dispenser on my desk to wipe off the window.
She has me pushing hard up against insanity and what I did last night is just more evidence that I’m losing it.
When the Westwood offices emptied yesterday evening, I went to her desk. I sat in her chair. I touched everything there that she’d touched. I wanted to jerk off, leave her a gift, but I know only too well the security cameras recording everything, and I’m already in a pot of hot water bigger than this building so I did my best to rein it in.
Sort of.
I looked in her desk drawers, finding a teacup that matched the plates we ate our cake from the other night.
Then, I saw a little pink zipped-up purple make-up case. I put the teacup back, retrieving the case, unzipping the top. Inside, there was a tampon and a pad as well as a tube of Chapstick and a bottle of Advil.
My mind spun. My temples pounding.
My manic obsession took over. I grabbed the case and headed back to my office. I tried to be logical. Civilized. I tried to control the madness. I failed.
First, I threw away the tampon. I don’t even want a feminine product inside her. The only thing I want inside her sweet cunt is my tongue, my fingers or my cock.
Next, I released erection and grabbed the pad setting in on the desk in front of me.
I wanted to cum on it, imagining it against her pussy but a huge, dried gob of my cum would surely be noticed. So, I went for plan B. I spit into my hand then jerked off, letting myself go into the palm of my hand.
What I did next was wrong. But I didn’t care.
I slipped two fingers through the white cream and rubbed it onto the center of the pad. Just enough so she wouldn’t notice, but I would know.
I’m a sick fuck.
After, I walked back to her desk, put the little case in its place, then picked up the teacup and licked the rim, stopping for a moment on the spot where her pink lipstick stained the white china, then put it back in place and closed her desk drawer.
I’m still lost in the memory of my madness when I glance at the screens from across the room.
Chastity leans across her desk, the concealed camera on her computer monitor mere inches from her left breast. My throat tightens and my still-hard dick thickens again.
I button up my pants and walk closer, watching her move across the different camera angles in front of me, heading for her supervisor’s desk. I don’t know the names of all the employees, but I’ve made it my business to know everyone she comes into contact with.
His is William Round. He started at Westwood Inc. five years ago, coming highly recommended by his previous employer. He has a wife and two kids, goes to the little deli across the street for lunch every day and orders the same pastrami sandwich.
Like I said, I’ve made it my business to know.
The man’s elbow is too fucking close to Chastity’s thigh. I'm tempted to go down there right now and tear his arm off, then punch him in the nuts with his own fist.