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I clear my throat and pass Vanacore back the picture. As I do, I point out my pick and croak, “That one.”
Vanacore looks at the photo. She strokes her pussy thoughtfully. Her eyebrows knit together, and she smiles hungrily and maliciously, though she’s torn between two energies. “You really like that look, don’t you? Looks a bit like Mary Poppins on the executive floor.” The way she says “Mary Poppins” is more mocking than the fact that she’s used the completely wrong name.
Part of me is tempted to correct her, but I smooth over that part of me and say. “Well, you asked me which one I liked, ma’am,” I say.
I lean forward and deciding I’m going to try to bewitch her in the same way she’s been able to do to me. As I capture her with my gaze, I send forward the intention that I truly captivate her and make her see what she wants to see in me. Whatever sexy, depraved fantasy she has.
“Which one do you like?” As I ask this question, I lean close enough to put the front of my pants on her desk, my cock and balls, though they are still clothed, and I have every intention of keeping them that way until Melissa has gotten to have them all to herself.
Vanacore puts down the photo and says, “You.” An answer I’m not terribly surprised by. But what she follows it up with, I’m not initially sure how or if I’m going to be able to get out of it. She adds, pointing to her snatch, “now give her some attention. A long, full-mouth kiss, Tommy, before I have to reprimand you.” Saying this, she brings her hips up closer to my junk.
I lick my lips.
Vanacore sees this and says, “I knew you were starving for her, Tommy. Why not get your fill?” As she says this, she leans back a bit in her chair and spreads her legs open. If I wasn’t disgusted by her before, I certainly am now.
I’m not going to lick her pussy. I’m not even going to like it. Not until Melissa and I have done at least that much, and I let her know that I’m going to be doing something along those lines to appease Vanacore. To play it up. Sweat gathers on my upper lip, but I don’t bother to wipe it or anything. Vanacore wants me to taste her, and I don’t want to. How do I get out of this and satisfy her at the same time?
Under these thoughts, I watch as Vanacore starts to really stroke herself. She goes so far as to put some of her fancy-smelling lotion on her hands and then rub it down her labia and press her fingers inside of her pussy.
Finally, as if I have some guardian angel of the Risqué looking after me, I offer, “Would you like a picture of me?”
For a moment, Vanacore doesn’t seem to put two and two together. She’s too busy experiencing the bliss created by her hand and her snatch. She hums in confusion, looking at me. I take out my phone and wave it at her.
“A picture, ma’am? Would you like one of me?” I let my eyes wander to the discarded photo on her desk. “As you don’t like any of the girls in that one, and you just want me?”
“I want your cock in my pussy,” she groans, pressing her fingers into her slit a bit more. Causing the lotion to squelch.
Internally, I completely shut that request down. The only pussy my cock is going into is Melissa’s. “I can’t, Ma’am,” I beg. “I’m not ready.”
Vanacore huffs. “Fine, then just watch.”
I try to block it out and just think of my pet. But, through the thin walls of my thoughts, I hear Vanacore beginning to sigh and moan. She growls and hisses with growing tension and pleasure as she keeps touching herself, but I imagine that Melissa’s making some of those noises. Her own version, surrounding them with a beautifully sexy accent. I stop myself before I get too riled up though, remembering my promise of celibacy.
It’s just as I hear Vanacore cum. I act like I’m doing something similar, though my cock is going to be completely clean. As is my underwear.
As I finish my bit of acting, making her think that I’m having just as good of a time as she is and that she is the center of my world, I think, Shit. And here I thought this was going to be the perfect solution. For keeping her out of my body and space, but not for keeping my promise.
I grit my teeth. I then pull at my pants, neatly tucking my package away, so it looks like my Boner is satiated, and take a small Kleenex from her desk. I have nothing on my hands, but I make it look like I do. I then throw it in the wastebasket and make a mental note to tell Melissa about this tonight.
