Forgiven

Forgive me.

Forgive me, because I am a bad woman and deserve a spanking.  

In the morning, lying alone, I think of you and touch myself, rubbing my body to an orgasm unrivalled by anything else. I think of your cock, a little droplet of precum resting on the base. And I think of licking it up.

When I’m at work, I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. Not because I’ve drank too much, but because hearing you on the phone in the office across from me makes me so wet, I can’t keep my pussy from throbbing.

I watch you, you know. It’s your fault, for keeping your door open and being such a social kind of guy. I have a perfect vista, right from behind my desk. You don’t see me, do you? You don’t see my hand slipping between my legs, my nimble fingers working fast so that you are continuously oblivious to my little moans and groans.

We only speak once in a day. The usual post-work chat, at the revolving doors. You ask me if I had a good day, I say I have. You bid me goodnight and say you’ll see me tomorrow.

At night, when I fuck myself into submission with my vibrator, I imagine it’s your cock. Of course I do. I always imagine it’s your cock. Your thighs, your fingers, your arms, your stomach, everything is you.

I know you’re my boss. I know I’m under you, and I know I’d possibly get fired if I act on my rampant desire for you, but I can’t keep myself from wanting you.

So, will you forgive me, Jack? Will you forgive me for wanting you so badly it hurts?

And maybe… will you let me get on top of you?

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