I met my eyes in the mirror. "No" I whispered" Just tell him to fuck off."
But then what's sixty days out of my already boring existence.
Why just eight weeks.
Why just 1440 hours.
Why just 86,400 minutes.
I brushed the hem of my dress, my fingers dancing over my knees, moving upwards in a sensual manner along my inner thigh. I wanted to touch myself, release some of the need. I stop when I saw him standing at the threshold, our eyes locked on each other through the reflection of the vanity mirror.
"First rule you are not allowed to touch or pleasure yourself in anyway." There was a dangerous purr to his voice, sending a shiver through me, removing my hand instantly.
He moved closer
I could feel the warmth of his big, hard body standing behind me, the smell of his delicious masculine scent.
Yummmmmy
"Only I am allowed to do that." spinning me around.
Lowering his head, pressing his lips to the crock of my neck. "Hurry up and leave." He mumbled, his tongue tracing the wild throbbing vein in my neck. "Before you don't leave at all."
"Darryl"
"Shhh" releasing me, walking out the room.
I quickly brushed my teeth squirming with an achy need, a discomfort and I couldn't do anything about it, strolling back into the room, he is seated behind his desk typing on his computer.