You Do Not Get To Orgasm On My Desk, You Naughty Girl.

YOU DON'T GET TO COME, NAUGHTY GIRL.

Please daddy, let me Come.

The sloppy sound of my fingers gliding over my glistening folds echoed through the room, intensifying my moans and my whimpers. My limbs were on fire. My legs that were clad in heels were threatening to slip off the edge of the desk but I couldn't stop touching myself.

I had to keep on touching myself.

Footsteps echoed, trailing down the halls, approaching me, increasing my heart rate. My heart pounded so loudly in my ribcage, I wanted to dig my fingers into my chest and rip it out so it wouldn't make such loud noise anymore. The door clicked open, making my breath hitch.

In the dim room, I could make out his dark, menacing presence approaching me.

“Have you been a good girl, Dahlia?” his deep voice crossed the room in a murmur. He sounded innocent, almost as if he wasn't capable of destroying me—with his cock, with his fingers, with his mouth.

"Yes, daddy.” I whimpered, applying pressure on my clit. I tossed my head back in a moan, electricity zapping across my skin.

“But you disobeyed me tonight.” He hissed.

“I'm—”

He strode across the room and got to my front in a split second.  His hot breath hit my nipples, hardening them to a rock. They were sensitive, and eager to be pleased, and my pussy equally throbbed to be eaten, to be touched to be claimed.

“You flirted with another man.”

“I was just trying to get your attention.”

“Now, you have it. Spread those legs and keep torturing yourself with your fingers. I'll be over there, deciding when you get to come.” He approached his sofa, slumping on it.

“Please, daddy…” I whimpered, tears gathering in my eyes. “I will be good for you. I promise.”

“Now, Dahlia.” My Dom insisted harshly.

My arousal smeared my thighs even harder, knowing he had his eyes pinned on me as I spread my legs even wider. My fingers moved up and down my pussy with ease, my newly manicured nails getting drenched in my own slimy essence. I bit down on my lips to quieten my moans when I started applying pressure on my clit.

“Oh, fuck.” 

“There's a good fucking girl.”

My free hand reached for my nipple, twisting and pinching it while I worked my hand around my clit and folds. When I scissored my clit and pinched my nipple, my eyes rolled back in their sockets. My body stiffened, pleasure coursing through me like I was being electrocuted.

“It's so good…” I whimpered.

My toes curled against the surface of my heels, spasms locking my muscles in place. When torturing my clit wasn't enough anymore, I thrust my finger into my opening, bucking my hip as I began riding it shamelessly, dripping all over the desk.

My loud, filthy moans echoed through the room.

I ached for him to wrap his fingers around my throat, to mark every inch of my body with his lips and claim my cunt with his cock.

Touching myself wasn't enough. It was frustrating.

My stomach tightened, the overstimulation ripping a sob from my throat. “Please, let

me come…”

“You don't get to come, naughty girl."