My Boss Knows I'm A Slút (4)
I turned and leaned forward, my hands flat against the wood, ass pushed out. My skirt rode up, and he shoved it even higher with a grunt.
“You wore this tight little thing just for me, didn’t you?” he asked, staring down at the curve of my ass like it was his personal playground.
“Yes,” I whispered, breath shaky.
He hooked his fingers around the side of my thong and yanked it aside, groaning when he saw the wet mess between my thighs.
“Look at you. You’re fúcking soaked,” he said, dragging a thick finger along my slít, spreading the slickness over my folds. “All from sucking my cóck?”
“No,” I said, voice soft and filthy. “I’ve been wet for you all morning. From the second you looked at me when I came to give you the performance sheet this morning.”
He sl
