Page 37 of Grace

Without missing a beat, I put away my papers and keyboard, making the room needed, and pat the wooden surface as she shimmies out of her loose-fitted skirt. She steps out of the fabric bundled around her heels. Her light green panties stand out against her pale skin, and my mouth waters. Her hands hook under her white linen shirt, then she lifts it, the slight tremor in her hands impossible to miss. But as her lacy bra reveals itself, I’m the one shaking.

I’ve never seen her like this, so bare and vulnerable. Her eyes flick to me quickly, as if she’s checking whether I’m watching, then she looks away. Grace’s face goes as red as her hair as her breathing quickens. My heart races. My body burns with need. It’s taking every ounce of restraint to stay right here as I watch her strip for me.

Her top drops to the ground beside her skirt, and she stands there in nothing but her bra and panties, gorgeous, perfect, and mine. Her eyes are trained on the ground with every step forward, and I can’t stop my own pleased smile as I realize she’s keeping on her heels.

I fall in my chair as my beating heart echoes in my ears. My hands grip the armrest as I try to keep myself from touching her. Watching her is a tease. She’s so innocent, but so effortlessly sexy that not touching her feels like a sin. Her fingers trail over my desk, and with a slight jump, she sits on it and edges back.

“Very good,” I praise, my voice steady and clear. “Take off your panties, darling.”

Grace pauses, her hands still on my desk. I inch closer to her and peel my tight fingers from the arm rests. I then hook them into the sides of her panties and glide the silky fabric down her thighs. She lifts her bottom, and her green underwear slide down over her bare legs.

With one hand, I hold her right ankle and move the panties around before I do the same to the left. Undressing her is a fucking gift, and the only reason I didn’t take off her work clothes is because I don’t trust myself not to tear them off her altogether. But her panties are a prize just for me. I roll the green silk in my hand and tuck it in my pocket.

As I move back, I catch a glimpse of her glistering pussy and I wet my lips. I can almost taste her again.

“Good girl,” I praise. “Look at me.” Slowly, her eyes lift and meet mine. They’re dilated, needy, but nervous. I gently run my fingers over her ankle. “Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes, Sir,” she rasps, her voice low and trembling.

“Show me how much. Part your legs for me, darling,” I whisper, and she does so without question.

“Stunning,” I breathe. “Show me how you touch yourself, pleasure yourself,” I say and lean back.

“O–Okay,” she says, her voice shaky and labored. His hand trails over her belly, down over her mound. Her fingers linger just above her clit. With a sharp exhale, she dips lower.

“Do you feel how wet you are?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes way from her.

“Y–Yes,” she says.

“Good. Keep going. You’re doing so well, Grace,” I breathe. “Tell me how it feels when you slide your finger into your sweet pussy.”

She shifts slightly, just before one finger thrusts inside her. I love watching it disappear into her, love that she’s willing to show me this and share this moment with me. Her little whimper as she fights the urge to close her legs has me starving for her.

“Tell me,” I say again, and my cock pulses.

“Tight,” she whispers and moves carefully, gliding her finger out and in, slowly.

“Good, good girl,” I praise and lean in closer. “Tell me more.”

“Wet and… and warm and…” She takes a sharp breath. “Daniel, you… are you sure you want to watch? You could—”

“I want to teach you how to enjoy yourself, Grace. You deserve all the pleasure you can have. Now, add another finger,” I say and pull on my pants as my hard cock rubs against my slacks uncomfortably.

Her movement halts, and she pulls out just enough to add another finger and thrust back inside her pussy. The view is perfect, watching her wet fingers slide deeper inside her, seeing her belly tighten. Nothing can compare. A small moan breaks from her lips and lures my eyes up to hers.

Grace’s cheeks are a deep red, and her chest rises and falls rapidly, her hard nipples pebbling against her bra as she stares down at me.My petite red goddess.

“I want you to do it,” she mumbles.

Oh, I want to… very,verybadly… “Darling, I don’t think I’d be able to… that I could stop.”

Her lips part. “But I don’t know…”

“What do you need from me? Tell me and you’ll have it.”

She hesitates a moment, as if really considering the offer along with my determination to keep my hands off her, and then her voice comes out in a low whisper. “Join me. Touch yourself.”

Yes, my fiery goddess will be the one I lose my control with as she asks me to bare myself to her. I get off on her pleasure, on her consent. That game has always been enough. No one dared to ask me to show more.

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