Page 39 of Big Daddy

She grips the armrests in the chair, slouching down to extend her legs toward me, her feet smoothing up the insides of my thighs. “Kennedy advised me to wear them. Said it’s inappropriate without them.”

Her toes connect with my balls, swollen and hot, causing me to curse aloud. “Fuck, Jesus Christ, Winnie.” Her words settle in through the erection haze. “Kennedy isn’t the fucking boss—I am, and if you don’t want to wear nylons, you don’t have to. I’ll fire?—”

“Stop,” she urges, using her foot to stop me. She presses her toes into the base of my shaft, eyes tamped down on mine. “Kennedy is doing her job. You won’t fire her. You won’t disparage her for doing what she was hired to do. I’ll wear the nylons.”

“I don’t want you to wear the nylons,” I groan, my eyes dropping to her delicate feet, watching as they trace each side of my eager cock.

“Afraid you won’t be able to see my panties?” she teases, outstretching her leg to allow her foot to sweep along the crown of my cock. Beneath my clothes, a puddle pools on my groin near my waistband. I’ve been a leaking mess since I touched and tasted her this morning.

“I’m afraid half the money you earn will be spent buying new pairs of nylons because your boss keeps ripping them off.” I keep my eyes trained on the way she moves her feet around my cock, and right when I’m about to reach for my belt, she stops.

Dropping her feet to the floor, she reaches past me, her hand grazing my thigh as she swipes a stapler from my desk. She sets it on the ground, reaches out again, this time taking my hand. Winnie waits for me to sit up, off my elbows, and then she places my hand on my cock.

“Watch my feet, touch yourself, then tell me you don’t get it.” She stands for a moment, rising to her toes to press her mouth to mine. Her kiss is surprisingly intimate, long and slow, with hushed moans passing between us. She pulls back, leaving me starved and needy, whispering, “Anything can be erotic if you have an open mind.” She kisses me again. “Open your mind, Big Daddy.”

Sinking back into the seat, she moves her bare feet along the stapler, keeping her voice low as she says, “This feels good, doesn’t it?”

A knot of pressure and unease builds in my chest as my cock rises all the way up in my slacks. Fuck, I’ve been hard all day and this little stapler foot show is gonna send me over the edge.

She looks at me, but I give her nothing, because I want more and if I tell her she’s right and that I’m sorry, she’ll stop. “Stillnot seeing it,” I lie, stroking my erection freely, my body and actions in direct opposition to my words.

“No?” she smirks, eyeing me as I jack myself. I shake my head, a bead of sweat slithering down the back of my collar.

Curling her toes around the end of the stapler, she uses her other foot to knead and massage the plastic, all while moaning out the most feral, erotic shit.

“My feet make your cock so hard, don’t they, Big Daddy?”

“I bet you wish this stapler was your aching dick, don’t you?”

“You’d be so lucky to come on my feet. You wish, huh?”

Her bratty mouth, her taunts, the fact I’ve been tasting her cunt all day—it’s too much. Reluctantly, I throw in the towel so I don’t blow in my pants.

“I’m sorry,” I say, releasing my grip. “I was wrong to kink shame.”

She stops teasing the stapler, her cheeks flush. This is turning her on, too, that little minx.

“Youwerewrong. Thank you.” Winnie rises, and her hard nipples make my mouth water. “And I’m sorry for disobeying you, Mr. Parker. I’ll make sure to save your nickname for when we’rein private.”

She looks down at my cock, and grabs it, giving it a squeeze so perfect that I bat her hand away, making her giggle.

“Don’t,” I warn. “I’ve had your pussy on my taste buds all day. I can’t take much more. And the first time you see me come isn’t going to be in my pants.”

“That’s kinda hot,” she says, chewing her bottom lip as she studies the outline of my erection.

“Not as hot as leaving every drop of my load deep inside you. Not as hot as you talking to fucking Dante while I’m leaking into your panties, into your little bed. Hmm? That’s hotter. And that’s what I want.”

Slowly, she traces her lips with her tongue and says, “What about my mouth? You don’t want to come in my mouth?”

Just as slowly as she licks her lips, she lowers to her knees and holds her mouth open wide.

“Winnie,” I breathe, hesitant. I don’t know why I’m suddenly hesitant. It doesn’t make sense.

“Afraid?” she asks, keeping her mouth wide after she asks.

“Of what?” I ask, confused by my hesitancy, and thrown by her question.

“Of liking it too much,” she says simply.

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